Dovahkiin Fahliil Part 1
by dragongirl1171
Summary: After Discovering she is Dovahkiin, the Altmer warrior mage Lina tries to get stronger for the inevitable battle with Alduin. But at the same time, she starts experiencing reoccurring dreams about the World Eater after the events of Helgen. Then to make things worse, there is increasing turmoil in the Guilds Lina is a member of (See profile for longer summary).
1. Chapter 1: An Escaped Prisoner

**Dovahkiin Fahliil (Elven Dragonborn)**

**Part 1**

**Chapter 1: An Escaped Prisoner**

* * *

**Synopsis:**

Lina is an Altmer Warrior Mage and a traitor in the eyes of the Thalmor. After evading them for three years, she is finally caught and sent to Helgen to be executed, but her death sentence is interrupted by the return of the dragons, and more specifically, the World Eater himself. Lina escapes Helgen alive, only be dragged into new dangers and to discover a great secret: She is Dovahkiin and the only one with the power to stop Alduin from causing Nirn's destruction.

Her journey takes place over the course of several years, consisting of a battle against Alduin, Lina's reluctant decision to fight in the Civil War, and learning about a strange connection between her and the World Eater allowing them to see each other in dreams, while at the same time, trying to master her newly discovered powers.

The fanfiction itself is divided into four parts:

**Part 1:**

Lina travels throughout Skyrim searching for Words of Power and ways to get stronger while learning what it means to be Dovahkiin and prepare for the inevitable battle with Alduin. But at the same time, she starts experiencing reoccurring dreams about the World Eater after the events of Helgen. Then to make things worse, there is increasing turmoil in the Guilds Lina is a member of: the College of Winterhold and the Companions.

Part 1 is heavily based on the Main Quest and the Guild Quests.

...

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own the Elder Scrolls franchise, Skyrim, or any of its characters. The only character I own is Lina

...

_A/N: I submitted the same chapter to my Deviantart account already, So I guess I'll submit it here to and see how it goes. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but I'm not forcing anyone to review._

* * *

I ran through the woods with the intentions of finding my way to Whiterun, my home. The steel armor I wore felt heavy and slowed me significantly. It was nothing like the armor made by my people: the High Elves of the Aldmeri Dominion, not that I could claim to own such armor, but it was beautifully crafted and significantly lighter than this set. Unfortunately, this was the only armor I could find during the chaos of the dragon attack.

* * *

I was supposed to be executed at Helgen when the dragon showed up. He came out of nowhere and called down a storm of meteors. While the meteors crashed into buildings, the dragon circled over Helgen, unleashing his fire breath on anything that moved. Imperial soldiers and Stormcloak prisoners alike were killed and I barely escaped with my life. In fact, the only reason I survived is because of a Stormcloak named Ralof.

In the chaos, he was the only person who stopped fleeing long enough to unbind my wrists and pull me towards a tower. At his suggestion, we stayed hidden in the tower until the dragon left. I hated running from a fight, but my swords were taken from me and I didn't even have armor when I was arrested. And I doubted even my Destruction spells would be enough to kill a dragon.

Ralof crouched near a window and watched the dragon destroy everything, but I was more curious about him. He was a Stormcloak and I was an Altmer. Nords had a general disliking for my kind, but Stormcloaks were devoted to driving us out of Skyrim. So why was he helping me? Why didn't he just leave me to my own devices or let the dragon kill me? That is what I would have expected a Stormcloak to do.

Ralof turned away from the window and faced me. "The dragon is still here. We might be stuck in this tower for a while."

"I understand," I said, "But why are you even helping me?"

"What do you mean?" Ralof asked.

"I thought the Stormcloaks despised Altmer," I said, "So why would you want to keep me alive?"

"Because I know that the Thalmor are the ones who wanted you executed," Ralof said, "They don't normally execute their own kind, so you must've betrayed them or something."

"You could say that," I said.

"So rescuing a traitor seems like an effective way to spite the Thalmor," Ralof said.

So this wasn't an act of compassion. It was an act of spite. I could not say I was surprised, but at the same time, I couldn't complain. Because of Ralof, I was alive. And I was not opposed to doing things to anger the Thalmor, especially since it was their fault I was at Helgen to begin with.

* * *

As the city was slowly destroyed, surviving Imperial soldiers ran into the tower and completely disregarded Ralof and me. Either they didn't see us or they just didn't care, but their reason didn't matter to me. Because of it, I was able to go through some chests and find a set of steel armor. It was made for a human woman, but wasn't too ill-fitting. The problem was that I was used to wearing light armor or no armor at all and steel armor was a type of heavy armor. Even now that I had been walking in this armor for a while, I still wasn't used to the weight.

I continued to run until I grew tired and had to slow to a walk, but I continued trekking through the forest until after sundown. I didn't want to stop since Whiterun was quite far from here and it would take me several days to arrive on foot. But now I was too tired to continue. My feet felt like lead and I could no longer tolerate how heavy the armor was. So I made camp when I came to a small clearing.

I immediately removed my armor, relieved that its weight was gone. All I had on under it were the rags the Imperials gave me when I was arrested, which would make it obvious that I was an escaped criminal if anyone saw me. I would have to acquire more suitable clothing as soon as possible. But for now, I just wanted to lay here and sleep.

* * *

_"__We should execute the Elf first. One less from the Aldmeri Dominion, right?"_

_"__No. One of the Stormcloaks must go first."_

_"__Then the Elf?"_

_"__Aye."_

_Foolish guards. Apparently they had already forgotten that the Thalmor were the ones who wanted me on the chopping block. And for treason. Killing me would only benefit the Aldmeri Dominion._

…

_The cart arrived at Helgen where I was to be executed with the other prisoners. As the guards planned, one of the Stormcloaks was sent to the chopping block first. I looked away when the axe came down, but I made the mistake of looking again before the decapitated body could be moved._

_"__Next is…the High Elf."_

_They meant me. They had to, especially since one of the Imperials grabbed my binded wrists and dragged me to the chopping block. But the Imperials found that I was not willing to accept my death so easily when they had to force me to my knees and press my head against the chopping block. _

_I glared at the soldiers as they released their grips on me._

_"_May your souls be lost in the plains of Oblivion!_" I snarled in Elvish._

_My words were ignored and not just because I had used my native tongue instead of the common one. The Imperials ordered the executioner to kill me and the axe was raised. I waited for it to come down…_

_But the deathblow never came._

_…_

_"__YOL TOOR SHUL!"_

_I did not recognize the voice or the language spoken, but a storm of meteors was unleashed on Helgen and a deadly fire soon followed, burning several Imperials. Then the dragon came._

_…_

_"__Get to the tower!"_

_Ralof pulled me to my feet and we ran to the tower, dodging meteors in the process. There we were safe from the dragon's wrath and I was able to make my escape. But I felt as if the dragon had been watching me before I disappeared from sight._

_…_

_Alduin._

_That's what Ralof called the dragon._

_Alduin the World Eater_

* * *

I jolted awake after that.

The early morning sun shone through the trees and I groggily sat up. I would've loved to sleep longer, but I knew that I had to move. And after having visions of Helgen, I didn't know if I wanted to fall asleep again.

I reached for my armor and a pouch that had been strapped to the belt. Before I took off, Ralof handed me a map of Skyrim that he managed to swipe from one of the Imperial soldiers during the chaos. I needed to figure out what the closest village was for the sake of acquiring food and provisions.

I unrolled the map and found that the closest village was Riverwood, which should be less than a full day's journey from here. And it was in the same direction as Whiterun, which would make Riverwood an even more ideal location to stop at and purchase the supplies I desired. The only problem was that I didn't have any money. The Imperials took my septims when they took my swords and I had no intention of stealing supplies. I was not a thief, even if I was decent at picking locks. But I decided to worry about money after I arrived in the village.

I folded the map and put it away and then put on my armor, groaning from the weight. I got up and started walking to Riverwood. Unsurprisingly, I started to feel the effects of hunger and thirst. The last time I had anything to eat or drink was the morning of the execution and even then I was only given meager rations. I looked around for a stream or any plants that might be edible. No such luck.

As I travelled towards the village, my armor seemed to double in weight and I was starting to feel weak from the lack of food and water. By the time Riverwood was even visible, it was late afternoon and I was ready to collapse, so I decided to rest for a few minutes before continuing to the village. Besides, I finally located a river and my throat was burning from thirst.

I knelt beside the river and scooped up a few handfuls of water to drink. But as I was about to stand again, I heard the sound of armored feet approaching. Bandits most likely. The footsteps ceased only a short distance from where I was and were followed by an unfamiliar voice.

"You lost, Elf?"

I turned around and found myself face-to-face with a muscular Nord wearing iron armor and unsheathing a massive sword that had been mounted on his back. Half of his face was covered by a helmet, but there was no mistake that he was a bandit. Especially since five men and women wearing similar armor came out into the open. All of them drew their weapons and came closer to me.

I slowly got up, wishing that I took a sword before I left Helgen, even though I probably wouldn't be able to do much with it in my current state. I was tired and in no condition to fight. I would have to defeat them using magic alone. Hopefully that wouldn't be too hard for me. After all, I specialized in the School of Destruction and more specifically, pyromancy.

"You should leave now," I said, trying to stay calm.

"Sorry lass, but I'm afraid we can't," the bandit said.

"And why is that?" I asked as I called upon my magicka.

"Because we need the money," the bandit said, "And a source of amusement."

"Then search elsewhere!" I snarled, not liking what he implied.

"Wrong answer," the bandit said, smirking.

He then charged at me, swinging his massive sword. I quickly stepped to the side to avoid the sword, but they bandit swung at me again and I was barely able to get out of the way in time. He swung the sword a few more times and I took several steps backwards, barely avoiding the blade each time. I wanted my own sword even more now. I might have been too tired to fight with a sword, but at least I wouldn't be so desperate to avoid his blade. And for that reason, it was time to end this.

Fire shot from my hands as I cast a flame spell at the bandit. The fire burned him and must have made his armor unbearably hot. He cried out in agony and dropped his sword. I watched the bandit try to get to the river, but he collapsed before he could get in. After that, the flames slowly started to go out, but the bandit was already dead.

The other bandits only glanced at their fallen leader before they decided to charge. I quickly turned my attention to them and cast a Wall of Fire spell. Fire burned the grass they were standing on and the bandits quickly caught on fire as well. They tried to get past the flames but only received more burns in the process. Eventually, they died the same way as the first bandit: being burned to death.

I was about to walk away from the bandit corpses, but an arrow was shot out of the bushes and sent in my direction. I couldn't dodge it in time and it ended up knocking me back and lodging itself in the pauldron covering my left shoulder. For the first time since I put on this armor, I was grateful that I had it.

A few more arrows came in my direction and I immediately ran for cover. By the time I got behind a large boulder, two more arrows were stuck in my armor and another had barely missed me. I've always hated dealing with archers. My own combat style was based on melee fighting (and setting things on fire). It was even worse when the archer in question was concealed by tall plants like this one was. I could probably hit the archer with a fireball from here, but I would have to force them to come into the open in order to kill them.

I conjured a ball of fire and aimed it in the archer's general direction, creating a fiery explosion. The archer (who I could now identify as female) jumped out of her hiding place and into the open to avoid getting burned. But now she was an easy target for me. The archer had fallen to her knees and dropped her bow in her attempt to dodge the fire. While it didn't take long for her to grab her bow and stand, I had enough time to conjure a second fireball and send it in her direction before she could draw an arrow.

The archer was killed in the fiery explosion.

I cautiously walked past her charred body and scanned the area for more bandits. There were none, but it occurred to me that this party might have a camp nearby. And if I could find that camp, I would likely find food and septims as well, along with a sword. So I walked in the direction I was certain the bandits came from, searching for a potential campsite.

Said campsite was in a small clearing that was just a short distance from the river. There were a couple of tents and bedrolls, but the camp was vacant. Most likely, the bandits who attacked me were the only members of their party or if there were more bandits, they were gone. For that reason, I decided to try to search the place quickly.

I went directly to a small table with a coin purse and a few healing potions sitting on top of it. I reached for the coin purse first and counted the septims, with totaled to 140. More than enough to get a room at Riverwood's tavern, but probably not enough to buy new clothes or lighter armor. There were probably a few more coin purses laying around, so I placed the one I held and the potions in the pouch containing my map and continued to search the camp for anything useful.

* * *

By the time I left the bandits' campsite, I had acquired a few additional coin purses (bringing my total to about 370 septims), a steel sword, a dagger, and a couple lockpicks. And I managed to find a few apples, which I had quickly eaten. The sword had to be my greatest prize though. While a steel sword was nowhere near as impressive as the ebony swords I preferred, I was grateful to have such a weapon since I would not have to rely entirely on magicka if I was attacked again.

Convinced that I had taken everything that might be of use, I once again started towards Riverwood. My armor still felt uncomfortably heavy, but I forced myself to ignore the discomfort. I was even closer to the village and soon I would be able to remove the armor and rest.

* * *

I arrived in Riverwood maybe an hour before sunset and I went directly to the tavern.

Said tavern was known as the Sleeping Giant Inn and when I walked inside, I received some weird looks. But I cannot say I was surprised. After all, I was a mess. My black hair was tangled and all over the place and I had a few scratches and burns from Helgen that I didn't bother healing. In addition, Altmer don't normally come to taverns like this and when they do, it's usually because they are with a Thalmor patrol. Most of the residents were Nords and Bretons. Not a single Elf could be seen…aside from me of course.

As I walked to the counter, I could hear the residents talking in low voices, almost certainly about me. I could only pick up pieces of the conversations, but what I heard was enough to confirm my suspicions.

"What do you think happened to her? Bandit attack?"

"Most likely. Though it could have been a wolf pack."

"What is an Altmer woman doing in Riverwood anyways?"

"Who knows? Maybe she's with the Thalmor?"

"Wouldn't she be wearing their robes then?"

"Not if she's a spy."

I tried to block out their conversations after that. I could not believe those Nords would assume I was with the Thalmor just because I'm an Altmer. As if I would ever serve those bastards.

Anyways, I reached the counter and the bartender—a Nord with shoulder-length black hair—turned in my direction. "Need something?" he asked.

"I would like a room for tonight," I said, dropping the standard amount of septims on the counter.

The bartender collected my septims. "Anything else?" he asked.

"I change of clothes would be nice," I said, "Along with some bread and water."

The bartender handed me a room key. "First door on your left," he said, "There are some spare clothes in the dresser that you can take and I'll provide you with food after you settle into the room."

"Thank you," I said before walking to the specified room.

I unlocked the door and quickly went into the room. Said room was relatively small with a bed in the corner and a dresser next to it. Inside the dresser, there were a couple of folded dresses. I would prefer to wear trousers, but I was just desperate to remove my heavy armor and the filthy prisoner rags underneath it. So I selected a blue dress and gratefully swapped my armor and rags with it.

For the most part, the dress fit me well. It was relatively comfortable (or as comfortable as a dress can be to someone unaccustomed to wearing one) and easy to move in. The only problem was that it was too short and almost certainly made for a Nord, not an Altmer. But I had always been short by Altmer standards (I was just a few inches taller than the average male Nord), so the length of the dress did not bother me too much.

After I was dressed, I checked the bottom drawer and found a set of boots that fit me. Then I turned to the bed where I left my armor and prisoner rags. I badly wanted to burn the rags, but smoke in a tavern room would just seem suspicious. I decided to wait until tomorrow to burn the rags. For now, I just hid them in a bag I took from the bandit camp.

Satisfied, I strapped the steel sword around my waist and left the room to go eat. But on my way to the counter, I bumped into a Breton woman. She eyed me suspiciously for a second before saying, "Haven't seen too many Altmer around here, other than the Thalmor patrols. You're not one of them, are you?"

"Of course not," I said, scowling.

"So what are you doing in Riverwood?" the Breton asked.

"Just passing through," I said casually, "I live in Whiterun, but it's too far to make the journey in a day."

"I see," the Breton said, but she looked unsatisfied with my answer. It was almost as if she knew I was hiding something (or maybe she was still convinced that I might be one of the Thalmor). Fortunately, she did not question me and instead walked away.

Once she was gone, I approached the bartender, who had already prepared the food I asked for. He handed me a plate and a tankard filled with water. I thanked him and took my food to an empty table. I sat so my back was facing the wall and kept my gaze down to avoid looking at the other residents, but I was almost certain that at least a few were staring at me. I might have looked more presentable now, but an Altmer in a room primarily occupied by Nords and Bretons still stands out.

I silently ate and focused on blocking out conversations that I kept overhearing, especially ones about me. But after a while, I started to feel like I was being watched. I looked up and, to my surprise, none of the residents were looking in my direction and neither was the bartender. Then I saw someone shift from the corner of my eye. I turned in that direction and saw the Breton woman standing in a doorframe and staring at me. Her gaze was hard and she looked like she was studying me. I don't know why, but something about her expression told me that there was something about me that she knew and I didn't.


	2. Chapter 2: Wanted By the Thalmor

**Dovahkiin Fahliil (Elven Dragonborn)**

**Part 1**

**Chapter 2: Wanted by the Thalmor**

* * *

**Synopsis:**

Lina is an Altmer Warrior Mage and a traitor in the eyes of the Thalmor. After evading them for three years, she is finally caught and sent to Helgen to be executed, but her death sentence is interrupted by the return of the dragons, and more specifically, the World Eater himself. Lina escapes Helgen alive, only be dragged into new dangers and to discover a great secret: She is Dovahkiin and the only one with the power to stop Alduin from causing Nirn's destruction.

Her journey takes place over the course of several years, consisting of a battle against Alduin, Lina's reluctant decision to fight in the Civil War, and learning about a strange connection between her and the World Eater allowing them to see each other in dreams, while at the same time, trying to master her newly discovered powers.

The fanfiction itself is divided into four parts:

**Part 1:**

Lina travels throughout Skyrim searching for Words of Power and ways to get stronger while learning what it means to be Dovahkiin and prepare for the inevitable battle with Alduin. But at the same time, she starts experiencing reoccurring dreams about the World Eater after the events of Helgen. Then to make things worse, there is increasing turmoil in the Guilds Lina is a member of: the College of Winterhold and the Companions.

Part 1 is heavily based on the Main Quest and the Guild Quests.

...

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own the Elder Scrolls franchise, Skyrim, or any of its characters. The only character I own is Lina

...

_A/N: I was actually planning to wait a few more days to upload the second chapter, but I decided that I might as well get it on now. It's already on my deviantart account anyways. _

_So this chapter is one I view as mostly filler and its purpose is to get Lina ready for the actual quests. And I start to get into Lina's backstory and some of the reasons she is wanted for treason and initially sent to Helgen._

_Also, at certain points when Lina and other characters present are supposed to be speaking Elvish, I wrote their dialogue in italics, which I intend to do every time Lina or someone else is speaking a language other than the Common Tongue that Lina can understand (which for now is just Elvish)._

* * *

That night, I once again dreamt about the black dragon from Helgen.

* * *

_I was not in Helgen, but Whiterun when I saw the dragon flying overhead. Everything was on fire and the dragon once again called down a meteor storm. The Companions rushed outside of Jorrvaskr to join the guards in battling the dragon, but they were all struck down by fire and meteors. Like Helgen, Whiterun burned to the ground and soon I was the only person left alive. _

_I could have run, but I didn't. Instead I stood my ground and reached for my sword, which was an ebony one meant for one-handed fighting. When I unsheathed it, the blade shimmered with orange flames to indicate a fire enchantment. I would kill the dragon with this sword and avenge my city._

_The dragon—Alduin, I just remembered as his name—looked at me and landed. I moved into an offensive stance and waited for him to attack. But the dragon did not move. He just stared at me with golden eyes before uttering a single word:_

_"__Dovahkiin."_

* * *

I woke up with the word echoing in my head.

_Dovahkiin._

What did it even mean? And what language had it been spoken in? It certainly wasn't the Common Tongue or any variation of Elvish. Did dragons have their own language? I knew so little about dragons or any culture they might have and all I knew about that word is that it had been directed at me…

I had to try to stop thinking about it. I still needed to get to Whiterun and sitting in a tavern bedroom trying to guess the origin of a word I heard in a dream would not get me any closer to they city. So I gathered my few belongings and left to find a place to buy provisions.

* * *

After walking around the village for a few hours, I returned to the Sleeping Giant Inn and sat at a table, eating a sweet roll that I bought from the tavern's bartender.

Food and potions had been easy to find and my bag was now filled with both. But with the limited amount of money I had, buying a new set of armor was impossible. Even after I sold the steel set, I couldn't afford light armor (Apparently the steel armor was damaged from the bandit's arrows, so the blacksmith wouldn't pay full price).

Anyways, I had to settle for buying clothing instead. I preferred armor, but travelling without it was nothing new to me. I had been without armor when the Thalmor caught me and sent me to Helgen, so I could certainly go to Whiterun without armor. At least I was able to find clothes that fit, despite being taller than a Nord woman, and that were suitable for travel.

I left the shop, which was known as the Riverwood Trader, wearing a black tunic and trousers with a hooded cloak. The cloak was the thing I was the most relieved to find and even more so when I realized I could afford it. The Thalmor might have only recently caught me, but I was first branded as a traitor three years ago and had been hiding from them ever since. Naturally, I had to learn a few ways to conceal my identity and hooded cloaks were one of them.

I had pulled the hood over my head and tried to make sure it covered most of the red crescent-shaped tattoo on my forehead before returning to the tavern. But right before I entered, I remembered that I still had to burn the prisoner rags from Helgen. I took care of it by standing behind the blacksmith's shop. The fabric didn't take long to burn, but a guard caught sight of me with a fireball in one hand just as the smoke was starting to clear. Predictably he became suspicious of my activities.

"Hey! What are you up to, Elf?" he asked.

"Just practicing a few spells," I lied, "I'm a member of the College of Winterhold and want to sharpen my skills before I return."

That statement was only half true. I was a member of the College, but I was not currently planning a trip to Winterhold. But the guard seemed convinced.

"Next time practice outside the village. I don't need mages like you burning everything down," he said and then left.

After that I finally returned to the tavern and bought the sweet roll I was now eating.

* * *

I heard the sound of a door opening and then footsteps came into the tavern. I didn't bother turning around to identify the source. It was probably just another travellers…or _travellers_ since I could tell there was more than one person. If I had to guess, the party contained at least three members. I kept my eyes on the half-eaten sweet roll in my hand, but then I realized that the tavern had gotten unexpectedly quiet as all of the usual conversation stopped. I still didn't turn around at that point, not even when I heard the bartender's voice.

"What do you High Elves want?"

A Thalmor patrol was here. I didn't need to turn around to confirm it, not after I heard one of them speak.

"We're looking for a fugitive who escaped execution at Helgen."

I pulled on my hood, trying to get it to cover more of my face. Somehow I doubted the fugitive they were after was one of the Stormcloaks. Ulfric and his surviving men were probably heading to Windhelm, which was in a different direction. Besides, to the Thalmor, a traitor was probably a bigger prize than a rebel. Especially since the traitor in question evaded them for three years and killed off some of their patrols during that time.

"I doubt a fugitive would come here," the bartender said to my relief.

"Why wouldn't she?" the Thalmor asked, "Riverwood is the closest village to Helgen and she would certainly need to stop somewhere to acquire food and other provisions."

The bartender fell silent after that, so a second Thalmor spoke, "So tell me, have you seen an Altmer woman? One with black hair, bright orange eyes, and a red crescent tattoo on her forehead?"

"Why do you care if I did?" the bartender asked.

"Because she is a traitor to the Aldmeri Dominion that needs to be brought to justice!" the last Thalmor all but shouted.

"I'll ask you again: have you seen the Altmer woman I just described?" the second Thalmor asked, "She goes by the name of Lina, though I doubt she would've provided this information if she was here."

"Actually, an Altmer woman did spend the night here," the bartender said after some hesitation, "She was pretty beat-up too."

That snitch! I made a mental note to set him on fire at the first opportunity.

"Was she our fugitive?" the first Thalmor asked.

I didn't wait for the bartender to answer. Without thinking, I quickly stood up and threw off my hood in the process. "Yes. I am," I said.

The Thalmor looked shocked to see me standing in front of them. They must have expected me to run or try to hide my identity. Honestly, that is what I expected from myself after spending so much time trying to avoid the Thalmor, but I had done the opposite and my recklessness could easily get me killed. But I didn't care about that now. All I cared about was making sure no one else got the satisfaction of turning me over to the Thalmor and that those supremacists wouldn't get a chance to literally beat answers out of the bartender or anyone else in the tavern if he had chosen to remain silent.

After a moment, one of the Thalmor finally spoke. "So we were right to assume you would come here," he said, "But it surprises me that you would voluntarily reveal your identity after hiding it for three years. Have you finally given up running from us?"

"Of course not," I said, narrowing my eyes at the Thalmor. Then I switched to Elvish when I spoke again, "_I just wanted to see the look on your face after I revealed myself_."

"_Do not speak the language of the Aldmer, traitor!_" the Thalmor shouted, surprisingly in Elvish. I would have expected him to continue using the Common Tongue if he was so opposed to me speaking Elvish.

"_Why not? I was born in the Summerset Isles and have as much of a right to speak my native tongue as you do_," I said.

"_Fine. For now we will converse in Elvish_," the Thalmor said reluctantly, "_But only because you won't live much longer_."

"_Oh really? You sent me to be executed, yet I survived_," I stated, "_What makes you so sure I will cooperate and go with you to my death?_"

"_Simple. Even you won't cause trouble with so many witnesses_," the Thalmor said.

"_That is where you're wrong_," I said, "_Nothing will stop me from setting your patrol on fire, not even a tavern filled with witnesses_."

The Thalmor flinched and his companions looked surprised, but they knew I wasn't bluffing. There was already a bounty on my head for my crimes against the Aldmeri Dominion and it must have increased after Helgen. And for that reason, they knew I had nothing to lose if a fight broke out and I would have no reason to hold back or show mercy.

"_Then let us be civil. There is no need to burn down the tavern_," a second Thalmor said, "_Although this would not be the first time you did something so foolish_."

I briefly allowed myself to smirk as I recalled several occasions where a tavern was almost burned to the ground, usually for pathetic reasons. But fire was my favorite solution to almost any problem, including minor ones.

"_I will be civil as long as you are_," I told the Thalmor.

"_Are you mocking us?_" the first Thalmor asked.

"_Perhaps_," I said, allowing myself to smirk again. Teasing them was too easy.

The Thalmor reached for his sword, but one of his companions held up a hand to stop him. He scowled, but released his grip on the weapon. Obviously I had no quarrels about starting a fight in the tavern, the Thalmor were most likely trying to avoid violence. Naturally they couldn't allow one of their own to let his temper get the better of him just because I couldn't resist teasing the three of them.

"_Either way, you're under arrest_," the last Thalmor said, "_Even if we ignore your obvious desire to mock us, you're still guilty of treason and heresy in addition to fleeing at the time of your execution_."

"_Heresy?_" I repeated, "_I thought I was sent to Helgen for treason alone_."

"_That is why we initially had you arrested_," the same Thalmor said, "_But then we found this around your neck_."

He pulled an amulet out of a pouch attached to his belt and set it on the closest table. I glanced at it and found that it was an Amulet of Talos. And more specifically, one I bought from a Nord merchant before I left for Cyrodiil, where I hid for a few months after being branded a traitor. Since Talos worship had been outlawed, possessing that amulet counted as heresy and it was even worse for me. Altmer were the ones responsible for the ban on Talos worship, so if I hadn't already been a traitor when I was caught wearing an Amulet of Talos, I would have been then.

"_And if I remember correctly, your last words before we put you on the cart to Helgen were _'_praise Talos._'" the Thalmor said.

"_And I have no regrets_," I said.

"_Yet you question being charged with heresy_," the first Thalmor stated.

"_I am only a heretic because you and your superiors insist on this meaningless ban on Talos worship_," I said.

"_The ban is not meaningless! Talos is a false god, which you should be aware of!_" the Thalmor shouted.

I rolled my eyes. "_I'm not interested in having this religious debate with you_," I said, "_But I am interested in hearing how you plan to arrest me this time_."

"_You will come with us and we will go to the Embassy so Elenwen can personally oversee your execution_," the Thalmor said as if it was really that simple.

"_You are once again assuming I will cooperate_," I said, "_And I will not_."

"_Then you will die here traitor!_" the Thalmor snarled.

He once again reached for his sword, but this time no one stopped him. The other two must have realized that avoiding bloodshed was impossible now that I managed to provoke their companion to this extent.

The Thalmor swung his sword at my neck, but I responded quickly and drew my own sword to block his strike. Our blades met and for a moment, we just stood there, glaring at each other. Then I heard the bartender's voice.

"Take your business outside, Elves!" he shouted.

The Thalmor hesitated for a second before sheathing his sword and grabbing my arm.

"Step outside," he said in the Common Tongue.

I slowly sheathed my own sword and reluctantly allowed the Thalmor to drag me outside, but not before I grabbed the Amulet of Talos that they left on the table and hid it in the pouch on my belt.

Once we were outside, the Thalmor shoved me against the tavern wall.

"_Now we will finish what we started_," the Thalmor said, switching back to Elvish.

"_Indeed_," I said as I drew a dagger behind my back.

Normally I found daggers to be all but useless for my fighting style. The blades were too short for a duel, but I always tried to carry one anyways because I did find a single use for them: quick and unexpected attacks, especially if I didn't have enough space to draw my sword. And the Thalmor was uncomfortably close to me.

I watched him reach for his sword and then attacked.

I stabbed him between his ribs and forced the blade as far as it would go. The Thalmor did not scream or make any sound to indicate pain, but I could see it in his face. His legs soon gave out and he fell to the ground, dead. That is when I removed the dragger, which was covered in the Thalmor's blood.

The other two Thalmor stared at their dead companion in shock before they drew their own swords. In response, I dropped the dagger and once again drew my sword. For a moment, none of us moved, but we were all thinking the same thing: Not all of us would leave Riverwood alive. Either they would die or I would die. And I was determined to make sure it was the former.

"_You murderous bitch!_" one of the Thalmor shouted, "_This is why you were sent to Helgen!_"

"_I was sent to Helgen because doing what I thought was right meant betraying the Aldmeri Dominion!_" I shouted back.

"_You slaughtered our patrols and tried to burn down the Embassy!_" the same Thalmor shouted.

"_Your patrols were killing Nords whose only crime was believing in Talos_," I said, "_Had I been born a human, I would have done the same thing_."

I refrained from saying anything about my attempt to burn down the Embassy because I had to admit I went too far with that, even though I have no regrets. At the time of the incident, I had been burning with rage and needed to unleash fire at the source of my anger, which was of course the Thalmor. Needless to say, I was caught before I could finish the job and had to run to avoid arrest.

I was already considered a traitor at the time and had been evading the Thalmor for soon to be three years, so I realized I would have to leave Skyrim for a while. That was when I fled to Cyrodiil, where I stayed for a few months. The day I decided to return to Skyrim was also the day I was put on the cart to Helgen. I suppose I should have stayed in Cyrodiil for a few more years…or maybe a century.

"_Talos is a false god and the heretics that worship him must be killed!_" the Thalmor insisted. I thought I told their patrol that I wasn't interested in religious debates.

"_Then you are no better than the Stormcloaks!_" I shouted, "_Ulfric seeks to drive our kind out of Skyrim just for having the audacity to be born Mer instead of Nords! And I don't just mean Altmer. Our Dunmer and Bosmer cousins too. Then there's you and the rest of the Thalmor—the ones who seek to kill anyone that even speaks the name 'Talos.'_"

"_Liar!_" the Thalmor shouted before charging at me. I quickly sidestepped and he ungracefully crashed into the tavern wall, "_We are far superior to those rebels!_"

"_Then why are you so incompetent in a fight?_" I asked in a mocking tone, _"You can't even hit me at a close range_."

The Thalmor did not respond. Instead he swung his sword at me. I quickly blocked with my own sword and forced his blade to lower. The Thalmor struggled to free his sword, but he eventually managed to do so. Then he thrust his blade at me, but I parried and slashed at his left side. The Thalmor blocked, but just barely. He then beat my sword away and tried to counterattack, but I didn't give him a chance to.

With speed that could only come from years of training, I spun while swinging my sword at his neck. Since the Thalmor was expecting a direct attack instead of something fancy, he was instantly caught off guard and was not sure where to hold his sword to block. Predictably, he failed to stop me and his head was cut off.

I turned to the remaining Thalmor with my eyes narrowed into a glare that practically challenged him to fight me. His eyes were widened from the obvious shock that came from seeing another one of his companions killed. For a second, I thought he would sheathe his sword and call a truce, but he didn't. His Altmer pride would be severely wounded if he admitted defeat to a traitor, even if said traitor was both a trained swordsman and a fellow Altmer. For the reason of pride alone, he would only allow the fight to end when one of us was dead.

He pointed his sword at me. "_Before we fight, tell me this: How did you escape Helgen?_"

"_A dragon attacked the village_," I said, "_I was on the chopping block when it appeared. Had it waited even a second longer to strike, I would be dead and you would not be questioning me_."

"_A dragon? You expect me to believe that?_" the Thalmor asked.

"_I swear upon Auri-El's name that it's the truth_," I insisted.

"_But that's impossible_," the Thalmor said, "_The dragons were killed or driven out of Tamriel centuries ago_."

"_Then it seems that they have found a way to return_," I said.

"_Then I will inform Elenwen when I get back to the Embassy and let her decide if this is worth investigating_," the Thalmor said, "_Unfortunately, I still cannot allow you to live because of your crimes against the Aldmeri Dominion_."

"_Of course_," I said, "_Then I guess Elenwen will not hear about the dragons' return_."

"_I should've known you would say that_."

After that we swung our swords at each other, hoping to end this in one strike. Of course we didn't and our blades collided instead. We quickly separated and I saw the Thalmor start to charge a spell with his free hand. He clearly didn't want to spend time dueling me to decide his fate. He just wanted to end this quickly. And if I wanted to be the one who survives the fight, I would have to do the same.

The Thalmor fired a lightning bolt at me and I instinctively went into a shoulder roll to dodge it. I then went on one knee and countered with a firebolt. The Thalmor tried to throw himself out of the way, but he wasn't fast enough. The firebolt hit him in the face and while the Thalmor was flailing around in a desperate attempt to put out the fire, I stabbed him through the heart, successfully ending his life.

I let his body fall to the ground and then went to retrieve my dagger. Both weapons were bloody and needed to be cleaned. While I was working on that, a man wearing a blacksmith's apron approached me. I recognized him, but only because he was the man I sold the steel armor to.

He looked at the three dead Thalmor and for a second, I thought he was going to call the guards, but he stayed where he was without moving. He didn't even have a weapon in his hand. I cautiously sheathed my sword and put the dagger back in its hiding place before taking a few steps towards him.

"Need something?" I asked.

"I just came to investigate," he said, "It's unusual to see Thalmor attacking their own kind."

"I'm not a Thalmor!" I all but shouted.

"That's not what I meant," he said, "I was referring to the fact that you're a High Elf. The Thalmor are always claiming that your race is the most superior in all of Tamriel, so they normally avoid starting fights with other 'superiorly bred Mer' as they call themselves."

"Actually, I started the fight," I admitted, while looking down.

"It's still an unusual thing to witness," the blacksmith said. Then his gaze went from me back to the Thalmor, "But these three were walking around asking for information regarding an Altmer woman who they said was a traitor to the Aldmeri Dominion."

"Oh really?" I asked, faking innocence.

"Yes and I believe you are the woman they were looking for," he said.

I cursed in Elvish under my breath. He knew who I was and now he would certainly have me arrested. I immediately reached for my sword, but before I could unsheathe it, the blacksmith spoke again.

"I do not wish to fight you, Elf. Let us talk like civilized folk," he said.

"Very well," I said and slowly released my grip on the sword.

He gave me an approving look and asked, "So what do you call yourself?"

"Lina," I said, "And you?"

"Alvor," he said before changing the subject, "The Thalmor mentioned Helgen so I'm guessing you know Hadvar."

That name sounded familiar, but it took me a second to figure out why. Then I realized it was the name of one of the Imperial soldiers overseeing the executions. He barely spoke to me and that was only because he was surprised to learn that I was not a Thalmor. Oh, and he promised to send my body to the Summerset Isles after the execution, but I never said anything to him.

"I saw him," I said, "Why do you ask?"

"He's my nephew," Alvor said, "He should have returned from Helgen by now."

"I'm sorry, but I don't know where he is," I said, "I was at Helgen as a prisoner and I barely left that village alive."

"You mean a fight broke out?"

I shook my head. "There was a dragon with black scales. It attacked Helgen and few survived," I said.

Then I heard a familiar voice. "What she says is true."

I quickly turned around and saw Hadvar, the very man we were talking about. So he did survive Helgen. Alvor looked relieved and I wanted to know why Hadvar was here. Was he after me like the Thalmor? I was about to voice my question, but Alvor spoke first.

"If a dragon has appeared, you should go to Whiterun and inform the Jarl," he said.

"I need to report to Solitude to speak to General Tulius," Hadvar said. Then he looked at me, "But she could go."

I nodded. "I live in Whiterun and was planning to go there anyways," I said.

"Go to Bleak Falls Barrow first," Alvor said, "There is rumored to be something called the Dragonstone hidden in the tombs. If you find it, bring it to the Jarl as a sign of trust."

"Very well," I said and pulled out my map to look for the tomb.

"Let me see that," Hadvar said while looking at my map. I handed it to him and he drew an X in it using charcoal. He then gave it back to me "That is where you will find Bleak Falls Barrow."

"Thank you," I said

After that, I turned around and walked back into the tavern. I left my supplies at the table I was sitting at earlier and had to get them. I heard rumors about dungeons being haunted by undead creatures that the Nords referred to as draugr. I did not know if these rumors were true, but I refused to be caught off guard because I forgot to bring the potions I bought.

I threw the bag over my shoulder and walked out of the tavern. The only time I stopped was to search the Thalmors' bodies and take a few septims. While I put the septims in the pouch on my belt, my fingers brushed against the Amulet of Talos, which I took out and put around my neck. Then I once again looked at my map and headed towards Bleak Falls Barrow and what might be my most dangerous adventure yet.


	3. Chapter 3: Into the Dungeon

**Dovahkiin Fahliil (Elven Dragonborn)**

**Part 1**

**Chapter 3: Into the Dungeon**

* * *

**Synopsis:**

Lina is an Altmer Warrior Mage and a traitor in the eyes of the Thalmor. After evading them for three years, she is finally caught and sent to Helgen to be executed, but her death sentence is interrupted by the return of the dragons, and more specifically, the World Eater himself. Lina escapes Helgen alive, only be dragged into new dangers and to discover a great secret: She is Dovahkiin and the only one with the power to stop Alduin from causing Nirn's destruction.

Her journey takes place over the course of several years, consisting of a battle against Alduin, Lina's reluctant decision to fight in the Civil War, and learning about a strange connection between her and the World Eater allowing them to see each other in dreams, while at the same time, trying to master her newly discovered powers.

The fanfiction itself is divided into four parts:

**Part 1:**

Lina travels throughout Skyrim searching for Words of Power and ways to get stronger while learning what it means to be Dovahkiin and prepare for the inevitable battle with Alduin. But at the same time, she starts experiencing reoccurring dreams about the World Eater after the events of Helgen. Then to make things worse, there is increasing turmoil in the Guilds Lina is a member of: the College of Winterhold and the Companions.

Part 1 is heavily based on the Main Quest and the Guild Quests.

...

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own the Elder Scrolls franchise, Skyrim, or any of its characters. The only character I own is Lina

...

_A/N: I just want to point out that this chapter is bad. I hated writing all of it except for a brief flashback regarding Camilla and the Golden Claw because it's essentially a rewrite of the Bleak Falls Barrow quest with few changes to the original storyline and I really hate doing this kind of thing. If I rewrite canon/in-game events, I want to be able to put more of a creative spin on them (ex: the dialogue between Lina and Ralof in the first chapter while they were still at Helgen), but I really could not figure out anything to do to make this chapter more interesting aside from the previously mentioned flashback. _

_Actually, at one point, I just wanted to skip this chapter entirely. The only reason I didn't is because I felt that it would make the next chapter weaker…and because I enjoyed writing the flashback sequence to the point where I hated the idea of removing it._

* * *

The climb to Bleak Falls Barrow was long and tiring. And there was so much snow. Even after living in Skyrim for so many years, I still didn't know how the Nords were able to put up with the snow and the cold that came with it. But then to make things worse, bandits were standing outside of the gates to Bleak Falls Barrow. I had been hoping to rest after the climb, but instead I had to fend off said bandits. They were easy enough to dispose of, despite my tiredness, but it was obvious that rest was not an option. So I pulled a stamina potion out of my bag instead and drank it before I proceeded to open the iron doors and enter the dungeon known as Bleak Falls Barrow.

I expected darkness, but the walls had started to fall apart, so there were a few gaps that allowed sunlight into the dungeon, although it was a limited amount of sunlight. It had been close to sundown when I arrived at the dungeon.

I walked past what must have once been a pillar, but was now just a pile of rocks. For a moment, it made me wonder how quickly the dungeon was falling apart. The last thing I needed was for it to collapse while I was inside, but I quickly pushed that thought aside. The dungeon was probably falling apart at a more gradual rate than that and the standing walls didn't look like they would fall anytime soon. Besides, I had a job to do and being paranoid would not make things easier. So I proceeded onwards.

As I entered the first tunnel, everything became darker, which was hardly a surprise. These walls were more intact and even if they weren't, it must have been getting dark by now. It became difficult to see, but that was an easy problem to fix. I raised my right hand and cast a Candlelight spell. A small magelight formed above me and illuminated the tunnel.

But even with the light, I managed to walk right into a spider web partway through the tunnel. Talos, I hate spider webs, especially when they practically block my path…although I probably could have burned it down or cut it with my sword. Either way, I ended up flailing around in a pathetic attempt to get it off. Thank the Divines no one was around to see that.

When I finally managed to free myself from the spider web, I quickly looked around. Where there were spider webs, there were usually frostbite spiders. To my relief, there were none, but I still drew my sword as a precaution before I continued through the tunnel.

* * *

When I arrived at a locked gate, I still had not seen a single frostbite spider or the draugr rumored to be lurking in the dungeons of Skyrim. The worst that I had to deal with so far were skeevers and those were nothing more than an annoyance.

Anyways, there was a lever in the center of the chamber, right in front of the gate. It had to be the mechanism for opening said gate. I reached for the lever, but then I realized that this was too easy and a lever in the center of a room felt out of place. Shouldn't the lever be hidden to make things harder for bandits…or people like me? Or at the very least, shouldn't it be mounted on the wall near the gate?

I probably should have looked around first, but I pulled the lever anyways, only to be assaulted by a rain of arrows.

I quickly ran for cover, but by the time I managed to get behind something, two arrows had pierced my shoulder and arm and a third had grazed my cheek. When the arrows stopped, I was bleeding and in agonizing pain. This is why I hated archers…or in this case, traps rigged with arrows. They were hard, if not impossible, to dodge. Maybe selling that steel armor wasn't such a good idea, but on then again, I had been planning to go directly to Whiterun after I finished buying provisions. If I intended to explore a dungeon, I would have kept the armor.

I pried the two arrows out of my arm while unsuccessfully trying to suppress a cry of pain. But even with the arrows removed, the pain in my arm remained. In fact, it got worse. Within seconds, I felt like my arm was on fire and that feeling travelled through the rest of my body. The pain eventually started to subdue (just barely), but I was left feeling completely drained of energy. Poison.

I weakly raised my uninjured arm to cast a healing spell, but the poison was making me too weak to sustain it long enough to finish healing. The flesh wounds started to close, but that was all I could do before my hand fell limp and I collapsed. My bag fell to the ground and I struggled to drag myself to it. If I was too weak to use magic, I would need potions.

My hand was shaking badly when I finally pulled the desired potions out of my bag. The first potion I took out was one meant to rid my body of poison. With my shaking hand, it took some effort to raise the potion to my lips, but once I managed to drink it, the effects were instant. The poison left my system and I was able to pull a healing potion out of my bag, which I quickly drank so my arrow wounds could finish healing.

Once the process was finished and I was strong enough, I cautiously got up and walked to the lever. It was the only one of its kind in the chamber, so there had to be a way to use it to open the gate without triggering the arrows again. And that's when I noticed the three metal pillars on the left wall.

Each had one of three images on it: a bird, a whale, and a snake. The same images appeared above me and over the gate. Maybe the pillars and the images over the gate had to match. It seemed somewhat ridiculous, but I couldn't think of anything else to try. So I walked to the first pillar and tried to turn it.

The pillars were surprisingly easy to turn and I arranged the images to match the ones above me to show two snakes and a whale. I then walked to the lever and quickly pulled it before bolting for cover. But to my relief, there were no poisonous arrows this time. Instead the gate opened to reveal the start of a spiral staircase. I slowly approached the stairs and descended.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I came to a room filled with spider webs, but still no frostbite spiders. There was only a table with some unlit candles on it and a shelf containing books that were worn to the point of being unreadable. Since none of these things were very noteworthy, I decided it was time to move on and continued walking through the dungeon. But as I progressed, I realized that there were more spider webs and they were even thicker than before.

But while I was looking at the spider webs, I heard a man's voice that sounded incredibly close to where I was. "Someone help me!"

The person was in danger. Without thinking, I ran in the direction I heard his voice come from. But then I heard the sound of multiple legs shifting and it was enough to stop me in my tracks. And for a good reason. In front of me, there was a giant frostbite spider. I could smell blood coming from it and I was certain it belonged to the spider rather than its captive, who was trapped in a massive spider web behind the creature. In addition, the frostbite spider's movements were somewhat awkward, indicating that it had been injured. But, injury or not, I did not look forward to fighting that thing. Frostbite spiders were easy to kill, but their venom was lethal if it hit you. And they were just ugly.

The spider hissed and sent a venom projectile at me. I quickly cast a ward to block the venom and charged at the spider with my sword drawn. When I was close enough, I swung at its legs. The frostbite spider tried to get out of the way, but eight legs were not ideal for a swift retreat, especially since it was already wounded. My sword easily cut through its legs and I finished the job by stabbing the spider through the head.

Once it was dead, I turned my attention to the spider's captive and source of the voice I heard. It was a male Dunmer and the spider web trapping him blocked off the rest of the tunnel. He was most likely a bandit, but I had to free him, even if it was just for the sake of getting him and the spider web out of the way and continuing through the tunnel.

I drew my dagger and approached the Dunmer, but that just caused him to struggle against the webs. When I was close enough, I grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

"Be still! You will only make this difficult for me!" I said as I started to cut the webs.

"What are you even doing here, High Elf?" the Dunmer asked, "You weren't part of our raiding party."

I guess that was all I needed to confirm that he was a bandit and the raiding party he mentioned was probably composed of the bandits I killed outside of Bleak Falls Barrow. Not that I planned to tell him that.

"That's none of your concern," I said, "But right now I'm trying to help you, so I would suggest that you do not complain."

"Fine," the Dunmer growled reluctantly, "But will you at least tell me your name?"

"It's Lina," I said as I continued cutting the webbing.

"They call me Arvel the Swift," the Dunmer said as if it was a title to be proud of.

I didn't reply. I just focused on my current task of cutting the spider webs. It took some time, but it was easy enough to free Arvel. But then he took off the instant he could move without so much as a thank you. Ungrateful Dunmer.

I started to run after him, but I stopped when I heard a vey inhuman snarl. It must have stopped Arvel too because the sound of his footsteps ceased.

"What in Oblivion was that?" I heard him ask himself.

Then I heard something shift, followed by footsteps, then Arvel begging for mercy before a blade stabbed flesh. Arvel fell silent after that, making it obvious he had been killed. I cautiously walked through the tunnel to see what his killer looked like.

What I saw next was startling.

A decayed, undead creature with a sword in one hand was standing over the body of Arvel the Swift and two identical creatures were getting off the shelves that lined the walls. So the rumors were true. Undead creatures known as draugr really did lurk in the dungeons of Skyrim.

* * *

I walked away from the fight exhausted and bloody. The draugr might have been undead but they fought with the skill and speed of living warriors. Living warriors who were more experienced than I was. And the worst part was that every time I thought I managed to kill the last draugr, another one rose and attacked me. The only good thing was that they were weak to fire, an obvious advantage for a pyromancer like myself. But now that the fight was finally over, the ground was covered with draugr bodies and I was attempting to cast a healing spell before I passed out from blood loss.

When the glow from the healing spell faded, my wounds were gone, but I was still drained from the fight. I leaned against the stone wall and took a stamina potion out of my bag, which I quickly drank. I felt my energy start to return, but I still waited a short period of time before I moved away from the wall.

When I did, I walked to the body of Arvel the Swift. He had one hand loosely gripping a golden object shaped like a dragon's claw. I knelt beside him and picked it up. The claw was somewhat heavy and had three circles carved into it. Each circle showed some kind of creature and, in order, they were a bear, a moth, and an owl.

While I was looking at the claw, I recalled a conversation I had with the shopkeepers at the Riverwood Trader about a similar item.

* * *

...

...

When I initially walked into the shop, I found the two shopkeepers arguing and they repeatedly mentioned something called "the golden claw." I quietly stood in the doorway and watched them argue for about a minute before I realized they didn't know I was in their shop and that I should probably say something.

"Excuse me," I said.

The two shopkeepers paused in their argument and looked at me with startled expressions. I suppose they didn't like the idea of discovering that someone had overheard them fighting.

One of them, a man with short black hair and a beard asked me, "What do you want?"

"I came here to buy potions and clothes, but I see you're busy," I said.

"We are," the male shopkeeper said, "Something valuable has been taken from our shop."

"And what would that be?" I asked.

"A golden claw," the shopkeeper said, "Some thieves broke in and took it."

"I'm sorry. I would offer to look for it, but I need to get to Whiterun," I said.

"Thanks anyways," the male shopkeeper said. Then he turned to the other shopkeeper—a woman with dark brown hair, "Get this Elf whatever she requires."

"Of course."

The male shopkeeper went upstairs and I was left alone with the female shopkeeper.

"I'm sorry about my brother," she said as she walked behind the counter, "He's upset about the loss of the claw. We both are."

"I really do want to help," I said, "But I don't currently have the resources to go hunting for it. My armor and swords are in Whiterun and I would like to get them first."

"I understand," the shopkeeper said, "By the way, my name's Camilla."

I hesitated to give her my name. Since I was a fugitive, I had to be careful about who I told my name, but I felt that telling a shopkeeper seemed harmless enough.

"Lina," I said.

"Pleasure to meet you," Camilla said. Then she changed the subject, "You said you came here for potions and clothing, right?"

"Yes," I said, "I'll take any potions you have available and clothes that are suitable for travel."

Camilla nodded and started placing potion bottles on the counter. Then she knelt down and appeared to be looking for something. "We don't normally get imports from the Summerset Isles, so finding clothes for High Elves is usually difficult."

"It's not my fault Altmer are taller than humans," I said.

"I know, but some Wood Elf merchants passed through Riverwood a few weeks ago and sold us some clothes from the Summerset Isles and Valenwood," Camilla said, "I'm just trying to remember where I left them."

Eventually she found what she was looking for and stood up, placing a small stack of clothing on the counter next to the potion bottles. I looked through the clothes until I found what I desired, which of course was the clothing I had now. I then took as many potions as I could afford and handed Camilla the required amount of septims.

"Thank you," she said while I placed the potion bottles in my bag. After that, I looked around, wondering if there was a place where I could change into the new clothes. But I didn't see another room or anything to stand behind. I guess Camilla figured out what I was looking for because she spoke again, "Um…you can change here if you want."

I hesitated at first, but then Camilla turned so her back was facing me. I slowly walked to the other side of the room and undressed. While I was putting on the new clothes, Camilla tried to make conversation.

"So you're an adventurer, right?"

"Yes," I said, "How could you tell?"

"High Elves rarely come here unless they're with a Thalmor patrol," Camilla said, "And I think it's obvious you're not one of them."

"Really?" I sarcastically asked, "Most Nords automatically assume any Altmer they see is in league with the Thalmor."

Camilla sighed. "But I'm not a Nord," she said, "I'm from Cyrodiil."

So she was an Imperial. How did I fail to realize that?

"My mistake," I said and then changed the subject, "I spent a few months in Cyrodiil. It was pleasant, but nothing like Skyrim or the Summerset Isles. Especially the Isles."

"What are they like anyways?" Camilla asked.

"Pardon?" By now I had finished changing and approached Camilla.

"The Summerset Isles," she clarified and slowly turned around, "I want to know what they are like. Hardly anything is known about them."

"That is because my kind is convinced that the race of man is unworthy of learning our secrets," I said, smirking, "But I'll tell you anything you wish to know."

Camilla looked surprised that I was so willing to tell her about the Summerset Isles, but she also looked like she was trying to contain some obvious excitement. At that moment, I realized that she was just like me—curious about the unknown and longing for adventure. The difference between us was that I had been able to seek out the adventure I desired and she was working in a general goods store.

We sat at a table and I told Camilla everything I could remember about the Summerset Isles. I told her about our politics, what motivated the Thalmor to try to ban Talos worship, our religion (at that point she briefly interrupted to ask if I believed in Talos), the names we gave the Divines (the only name Camilla recognized was Auri-El, the Elven name for Akatosh), and our traditions. I gave her elaborate descriptions of our architecture, which was far superior to the buildings of man in my opinion. I even taught Camilla a few basic phases in Elvish at her request.

The entire time I was speaking, Camilla listened intensely, clearly fascinated by the "secrets" I had shared with her.

"Thank you for telling me this," Camilla said when I was done talking, "I would like to see the Summerset Isles for myself someday."

"Maybe I'll take you there in a few years," I said, but I knew that would only be possible if I could get a pardon for my crimes. My status as a traitor made it impossible for me to return to the Summerset Isles, but I wasn't planning to tell Camilla that, "But for now, I must be off."

"Will you allow me to accompany you?" Camilla asked, clearly seeing this as an opportunity to seek out the adventure she desired.

I shook my head. "Sorry, but I can't afford to travel with another person right now."

Camilla looked disappointed. I guess she really wanted to go on an adventure.

"I'll come back," I said, "Then I can tell you about some of my adventures."

"Really?" That seemed to get rid of some of Camilla's disappointment.

I nodded. "I swear upon Auri-El's name that I will return," I said, "And that is not a vow I make unless I intend to keep it."

"Then I will await your return," Camilla said.

...

...

* * *

I was certain the golden claw I now held was the one Camilla and her brother were looking for. Now that I had it, I had to return to the Riverwood Trader, but not yet. I had to get the Dragonstone first. I hadn't seen anything that could be it yet, so it must have been buried deeper in Bleak Falls Barrow. I got up and continued walking through the tunnels, which sometimes became more cave than dungeon.

Eventually, I came to a wooden double door with a draugr with a battle-axe in its hands standing in front of it as a guard. I had to resist the urge to groan at the sight. I hated dealing with battle-axes (archers were worse though). Everything about them made it hard to face someone holding a battle-axe with a one-handed sword, my obvious weapon of choice (aside from the fire spells).

But so far the draugr hadn't seen me. I ducked behind a wall that was starting to fall apart the instant I saw the undead creature. The last thing I wanted was to fight another draugr after the last few almost killed me. But I knew I didn't have a choice. I would have to fight it if I wanted to continue through those doors. Besides, it was unlike me to hide from an enemy, even one that intimidated me.

I stepped out into the open with my sword in one hand and a charged fire spell in the other. The draugr looked at me and raised its battle-axe while giving an inhuman snarl.

"_Unslaad Krosis!_" it growled. I didn't recognize the language it spoke, but it was easy enough to assume the draugr had either insulted or threatened me.

"Auri-El smite you," I said in a low voice before I charged.

I ran at the draugr and jumped at the last minute, swinging my sword at its head. It blocked by using its axe as a staff and then swung the axe to separate it from my blade. The draugr swung at me and I quickly stepped out of the way. I made sure I was out of its swinging range before I cast a Flame spell at the draugr while it recovered from its failed attack. It roared as if it was in pain, but the draugr's movements did not appear hindered by the fire. I should have used a stronger spell.

It swung its axe at me a few more times and I barely evaded the weapon each time. My fire continued to burn the draugr, but not enough to make the creature fall. However, it was enough to make me wary about getting too close to the draugr. My clothes were flammable and my skills in pyromancy did not make me immune to fire, regardless of how much I wished otherwise.

I raised my sword to block a downward strike at my head. The weight of the axe threatened to snap my wrist, so I placed my free hand against the flat of my blade to support it. Even then, I struggled under the weight of the battle-axe. I couldn't figure out how to get out from under it without exposing myself and the battle-axe was too heavy for me to force away. I just needed to free my hand so I could cast another fire spell.

Of course the draugr was determined to make sure that didn't happen. It must have known that I would only use more fire against it and that it was weak to fire. When the draugr attacked me earlier, I noticed that the ones I killed with fire acted like they were in agony before they collapsed while the ones I killed with my sword did nothing but growl at their defeat.

But even though I couldn't cast another spell, the fire that was already burning the draugr continued to spread across its body, weakening the undead creature. Its face did nothing to betray how much pain it was in, but the force of the battle-axe started to weaken and just in time too.

My arms were starting to hurt from trying to keep the axe from striking me. Any longer and the draugr would have overpowered me. But now I was able to free my sword and get away from the draugr before casting a firebolt at it. The draugr roared from the pain again and finally collapsed, dead.

I walked past the now charred body, relieved that it was over. But I think these draugr were close to replacing the Thalmor and archers as my least favorite people or creatures to deal with. Close, but not quite. So far none of these draugr assaulted me with a bow, which made them less irritating than archers, I suppose.

My gaze shifted from the charred draugr to the wooden door it had been guarding. The Dragonstone was probably somewhere on the other side of that door, but I was certain there would be more draugr too.

_Just what I was hoping for_, I thought sarcastically.


	4. Chapter 4: The First of Many Words

**Dovahkiin Fahliil (Elven Dragonborn)**

**Part 1**

**Chapter 4: The First of Many Words of Power**

* * *

**Synopsis:**

Lina is an Altmer Warrior Mage and a traitor in the eyes of the Thalmor. After evading them for three years, she is finally caught and sent to Helgen to be executed, but her death sentence is interrupted by the return of the dragons, and more specifically, the World Eater himself. Lina escapes Helgen alive, only be dragged into new dangers and to discover a great secret: She is Dovahkiin and the only one with the power to stop Alduin from causing Nirn's destruction.

Her journey takes place over the course of several years, consisting of a battle against Alduin, Lina's reluctant decision to fight in the Civil War, and learning about a strange connection between her and the World Eater allowing them to see each other in dreams, while at the same time, trying to master her newly discovered powers.

The fanfiction itself is divided into four parts:

**Part 1:**

Lina travels throughout Skyrim searching for Words of Power and ways to get stronger while learning what it means to be Dovahkiin and prepare for the inevitable battle with Alduin. But at the same time, she starts experiencing reoccurring dreams about the World Eater after the events of Helgen. Then to make things worse, there is increasing turmoil in the Guilds Lina is a member of: the College of Winterhold and the Companions.

Part 1 is heavily based on the Main Quest and the Guild Quests.

...

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own the Elder Scrolls franchise, Skyrim, or any of its characters. The only character I own is Lina

In addition, Alduin's lines spoken in Dragon Tongue were taken directly from the game and his Wiki page

...

_A/N: I think this chapter is a significant improvement over the previous one, mostly because I actually did something besides rewrite a quest. And I brought back Camilla here, which I have to thank Aroswing on deviantart for. He's the one who gave me the inspiration needed for the flashback in the previous chapter along with Camilla's reappearance in this chapter, along with what her established role will be in the next chapter (sadly, Camilla will not be joining Lina long-term, but I have plans to turn her into a reoccurring character)._

* * *

Chanting. I heard voices chanting in some incomprehensible language and they were only getting louder as I progressed through the dungeon. I was tempted to run to the source in order to identify it, but fatigue was starting to overcome me.

Until now, the only things that allowed me to keep moving were survival instincts, adrenaline, and stamina potions, but none of those things would keep me moving forever. Besides, a few more draugr ambushed me not long ago and while I survived the fight and was able to heal myself afterwards, I had used my remaining stamina potions almost immediately after the last draugr had been slain.

Now the energy from the potions had long faded and I felt like I might collapse from exhaustion. The only reason I didn't was because I feared another draugr ambush enough to keep myself awake…and I wanted to identify the source of the chanting.

I kept walking until I came to a stone wall. At that point the chanting had grown even louder and almost seemed to be coming from the wall, strange as that sounded. In addition, the wall was covered with what I initially thought were massive claw marks, but they looked far too organized to be from some creature mindlessly clawing at the wall (assuming there was a creature large enough to leave such marks). The marks must have been deliberately carved. Maybe they were a code used by an ancient Nordic cult. Or a language perhaps. But what interested me the most were some marks that were glowing.

I slowly approached the glowing marks and the chanting somehow grew louder, almost as if the wall was…calling for me. That was a strange thought and I wondered how many of the Companions would believe me if I ever made it back to Jorrvaskr and told them what happened here.

Anyways, I was only a few feet from the wall when I heard the sound of a coffin being cracked open. I quickly turned around and saw a draugr climbing out of a black sarcophagus. Had I been paying more attention, I would have noticed it sooner, but the fatigue and my fixation with the wall and glowing marks had made me oblivious.

The draugr stood and I realized that this one looked different from the other ones I fought. It looked…stronger…and more dangerous. The only good thing about this draugr was that it was wielding a greatsword instead of an axe or worse, a bow. If it were an archer, I would have been guaranteed a quick death. A greatsword was so much easier to fend off, but I was still exhausted and in no condition for a prolonged fight. I really should have saved those stamina potions because I would love to have one right now.

"_Unslaad Krosis!_" the draugr growled. I've heard that twice now and I still did not know what it meant. Maybe it was a battlecry of some kind, although my initial thought of it being an insult or death threat was still as plausible.

"Auri-El smite you," I said for the second time as I drew my sword.

I conjured a fireball in my other hand and threw it at the draugr, hoping to end this quickly. The draugr, of course, refused to give me the luxury of a short fight and it jumped to the side, causing my fireball to miss it completely. Then the draugr quickly charged at me before I could even try to cast another spell. The draugr swung its sword and I barely had time to raise my own sword to block. Deflecting its greatsword took more effort than it should have and after that the draugr seemed determined to keep me on the defensive.

Its first strike was quickly followed by another and another after that. The first of the two strikes I evaded by stepping back, but I was forced to parry the second strike and most of the ones following it. The draugr's attacks were coming so fast that I didn't have a chance to switch to offense. I hated fighting this way since I based my fighting style almost entirely on offense and firepower, not blocking my enemy's attacks until I could find an opening. Not that there was one.

Then to make things worse, the draugr swung its sword at my right side, clearly aiming for my sword arm. I was able to move enough to avoid losing my arm when the blade pierced my flesh, but it still left a fairly deep cut. I cringed from the pain, but then I felt something even more unpleasant. A cold sensation ran through my arm, making me feel as if I had been hit with a frost spell. But the draugr had not used magic, so I did not see how this was possible. Then I got a good look at its greatsword as I jumped back to evade another strike.

The blade had the faint shimmer of a frost enchantment on it, which meant anything it hit would feel the same effects of a frost spell. I should have been watching for enchanted weapons, but frost enchantments were less prominent than the fire ones I preferred, so I rarely noticed them right away.

My arm started to go numb from the cold sensation and I struggled to keep my sword raised. The draugr swung at me again and I took several steps backwards rather than trying to block. Trying to move my arm at all was difficult, so naturally blocking was hard and going on the offensive was out of the question. With my sword hand useless, I tried to raise my other hand a number of times to cast a fire spell, but every time I found myself having to stop to evade the draugr's greatsword before I could make even a small flame.

The draugr and I circled the area in front of the stone wall as the fight turned into a routine. It would attack and I would step backwards or to the side to evade its sword. I periodically tried to move my sword or cast a fire spell, but the cold and numbing sensation refused to leave my right arm and the draugr constantly swung at me when I attempted to use magic.

Then when the effects of the frost enchantment in my arm started to fade, the draugr was able to get a successful strike.

I stepped back to avoid its sword again, but apparently, I didn't move far enough. The draugr slashed downwards at my torso and while I was almost certain the blade missed my vitals, the greatsword left a massive cut that started at my right shoulder and travelled across my chest and stomach. The cold sensation soon followed and I screamed from the pain. Blood ran down my now exposed skin and soaked the remains of my shirt, but despite all of this, I managed to lunge at the dragur for one offensive strike.

I swung my sword at the creature, aiming for its neck. The draugr looked almost surprised to see me on the offensive for the first time since the fight began and was unable to block in time to stop me from beheading it.

The draugr's body fell to the ground, unable to support itself without a head, but only seconds later, I became lightheaded and staggered backwards into the wall, and more specifically, into the glowing marks. I realized the chanting was louder than ever right before I fell to my knees while my vision started to darken and I thought I might pass out from blood loss. I shakily moved into a sitting position with my back pressed against the stone wall before I weakly raised my hand to cast a healing spell.

The glow of the spell engulfed me and my wounds started to close, but even though the bleeding had stopped, it was not enough to keep me from blacking out. My vision continued to darken until I could see nothing but black and collapsed on the hard ground.

But just before I faded into unconsciousness, I felt some strange and unfamiliar magic rush from the glowing marks and into me. And then a word entered my mind:

_Fus—Force_.

* * *

When I eventually regained consciousness, the first thing I registered was pain. Lots of it. The places where I had been cut still hurt, even though the healing spell removed all but slight scratches, and the rest of my body ached from lying on the hard ground for Talos knows how long. I slowly sat up, trying not to cringe from the pain, but then I realized that the dungeon was now silent. The chanting I've been hearing since I entered the chamber had stopped entirely.

I turned to look at the wall and saw that the once-glowing marks were now as dark as the rest of the stone wall. For a second, I wondered if I had only imagined the chanting or the glowing marks. After all, I had never heard of such magic before and there was no evidence that it happened.

Well, that was not entirely true. The word I heard before I blacked out was echoing in my head.

_Fus—Force_.

That one word was enough to convince me that all of that had been real and not just some hallucination caused by fatigue. The word "Fus" did not exist in any of the languages I could speak (which were actually just the Common Tongue and the Altmeri dialect of Elvish, although I did know some of the Dunmeri and Bosmeri dialects). And while I was looking at the once-glowing marks, I realized that they were actually letters—letters that read "force" or "Fus" in another language…Wait, how did I know this? And why was that the only word on the stone wall that I could read?

I stared at the wall for another minute before I finally decided that this was a question for another time and got up. My legs were shaking and I had to press my hand against the wall to steady myself. Then when I was convinced that I wouldn't collapse, I staggered to the sarcophagus and peered inside. There I saw a stone tablet with claw-like marks carved into it. Marks identical to the ones on the wall. Was this the Dragonstone? I flipped it over and found map-like engravings on the other side.

Even if this wasn't the Dragonstone, it was still an impressive treasure (or at least Onmund would think so if I ever saw him again) and worth offering to the Jarl. And, I just had a feeling the marks—I mean letters—on both the stone tablet and the wall were somehow connected to dragons. So Dragonstone or not, I was taking this tablet with me.

I tore off part of my cloak and wrapped it around the stone tablet before placing it in my bag. I couldn't risk letting it get damaged. After it was secure, I looked around, hoping to find a way out.

* * *

I had been fortunate enough to find a tunnel that led outside, but to my surprise, I was then assaulted by blinding sunlight. But…it had been close to sundown when I first entered the dungeon. Had I really been in Bleak Falls Barrow all night? Or longer? I was too tired to think about it, but I still knew that sleeping here would be unwise. I should go back to Riverwood first. Then I would be able to give Camilla the golden claw and maybe find a carriage driver to take me to Whiterun.

* * *

I don't remember much about the journey back to Riverwood, but when I arrived at the village, a Bosmer archer approached me and placed his hand on my shoulder. I looked at him and could see concern in his expression.

"Are you alright, Sister Elf?" he asked, "You look like you just came from the Plains of Oblivion."

"I…I need to see Camilla," I said, "I have something that belongs to her."

"You need a healer first," the Bosmer said.

"Just let me go to Camilla," I said, "Please."

"Alright," the Bosmer said, "But only because I wouldn't mind visiting her as well."

He then led to the Riverwood Trader where we found Camilla sweeping and her brother (who Camilla told me was named Lucan) standing behind the counter. Camilla's gaze was on the floor, but she looked up and dropped her broom in astonishment.

"Lina!" She cried, running to me. After quickly inspecting my condition, Camilla dragged me to the table and had me sit down. After walking for so long, it almost felt luxurious to be seated.

"Faendal, what happened to her?" Camilla asked the Bosmer.

"I cannot say," the Bosmer—who I now knew as Faendal—replied, "She just staggered into the village looking like this and insisted on coming here."

"I found your golden claw," I interrupted as I pulled the claw out of my bag and placed it on the table. Lucan stepped around the counter while both he and Camilla looked at the object with shocked expressions. It took some time for either of them to speak.

"I thought you said you couldn't go looking for the claw right now," Lucan finally said.

"Change of plans," I said.

"Well…Thank you," Lucan said, "Let me reward you."

He picked up the claw and walked back to the counter, where he set it down before grabbing a bag of septims. Lucan then walked back to where I was sitting and placed the bag in front of me. I slowly picked it up and opened the bag. I didn't bother counting the septims, but I could tell that there were at least a few hundred.

"I cannot turn down septims," I said, "But I did not expect any kind of payment."

"Well, if your current condition is anything to go by, you've more than earned every coin," Lucan said.

"Thank you," I said, "But I must leave."

I placed the bag of coins in the pouch on my belt and stood before walking towards the door.

"Already?" Camilla asked.

"Yes," I said, "I need to get to Whiterun immediately."

"But you can't travel in this condition," Faendal said, "You look tired and worn out. Even the weakest bandits could kill you with ease."

"I'll hire a carriage driver," I said, "Bandits seldom attack travellers on the main roads."

"But there is still the risk of an attack," Faendal stated.

"And it wouldn't hurt to rest here," Camilla added.

"No. I must leave now," I insisted, "I've wasted too much time already."

"Why are you in such a hurry?" Faendal asked.

I suppose I should just tell them. After all, they had a right to know about the dragon, especially since Helgen was so close to Riverwood. The dragon could easily come here next and the sooner these people knew, the sooner they could take the necessary precautions.

"A dragon attacked Helgen not long ago and I need to inform the Jarl," I said.

My words were met by three expressions of disbelief.

"You cannot be serious," Lucan said, "No one has seen a dragon for centuries."

"But I am," I said, "I was in Helgen and I saw the dragon myself."

"What did it look like?" Camilla asked, unsuccessfully masking her curiosity.

"It had sharp black scales and a massive wingspan," I said, "And eyes that were either golden or red. I couldn't quite tell which."

Camilla looked fascinated and I imagine she was secretly wishing she had gotten to see the dragon as well, but Lucan and Faendal looked concerned.

"I can see why you're in a hurry now," Faendal said, "A dragon flying around Skyrim could pose as a threat to all of us, especially if it leaves Skyrim and goes to our homelands."

I nodded. "So may I take my leave?" I asked.

"I suppose there's nothing we can do to stop you," Faendal said.

"But I'm going to escort you," Camilla suddenly declared.

That surprised all of us, but especially Lucan.

"Camilla—" Lucan started.

"She's in no condition to travel alone!" Camilla insisted, "Besides, I've been wanting to visit Whiterun for some time now."

Lucan looked like he was about to protest, but Faendal interrupted. "Then I'll go as well for Camilla's protection," he said, "And for…Camilla said your name was Lina, right?"

"Yes, but I find this unnecessary," I said, "And we've only just met."

"Consider it a favor to my old friend Camilla then. I know she's been wanting to get out of Riverwood for some time," Faendal said, "Besides, you can't fight in this condition and, as I said before, even if we stay on the main road, there is still a risk of bandits attacking."

"Alright. If you insist," I said. I didn't need an escort, but it was always nice to have someone watching my back.

Faendal and I walked to the door, but Lucan grabbed Camilla's arm before she could follow us.

"I don't like the idea of you leaving the village," Lucan said.

"I'll be fine and it doesn't take long to reach Whiterun by carriage," Camilla insisted, "Besides, I have two fine Elven warriors on my side."

I couldn't stop myself from smirking at the comment, but I think Faendal was blushing.

"I wouldn't call myself a warrior," he said in a barely audible tone. I doubt Camilla heard him since I barely heard him and I was standing the closest to Faendal. But he did seem to be talking more to himself than to any of us. So I pretended to be as oblivious to his comment as the others.

I suppose Camilla was able to convince Lucan that leaving Riverwood for a couple days wouldn't result in her death because they said their goodbyes and Camilla left the shop with Faendal and me. We then walked to the village boarder where we found a carriage driver. I gave him the required payment to get to Whiterun and we climbed in the carriage. As for what happened next…I cannot recall. I fell asleep within the first hour of our departure.

* * *

Sometime while I was asleep, the black dragon entered my dreams again.

_This time I stood on the roof of a tower, clad in Elven armor with an ebony sword at my hip, as the dragon circled above me. I watched the dragon for perhaps a minute before my gaze shifted away. I looked around and while I could not identify the location, I could see that everything was on fire. At least there weren't any people around (or at least none that I could see). It was just me and the dragon, who my gaze shifted back to. At that moment, he landed on the opposite side of the tower and just stared at me._

_"__You did this," I said, motioning to the burning fields surrounding us._

_The dragon said nothing. All he did was continue to stare at me._

_"__Why?" I asked, "Why would you destroy my homeland?"_

_Again, the dragon remained silent, which did not surprise me. Somehow I knew he would refuse to answer, so I tried a new question._

_"__Who are you?" I asked._

_"__Zu'u Alduin. Zok sahro do naan ko Lein!" the dragon said proudly._

_His words made no sense to me, other than "Alduin," which I once again remembered was the dragon's name. Perhaps dragons had their own spoken language and that was what he had been speaking, but of course, I did not know such a language and could not hope to understand it._

_"__I do not know your language, dragon," I said._

_The dragon growled at me, clearly annoyed that I could not understand his language, but he spoke again. And, to my surprise, this time he spoke fluent Elvish, "_I am Alduin, firstborn of Akatosh._"_

_Akatosh was the name the humans gave Auri-El, the dragon god of time and chief god in every pantheon he was represented in. This dragon—Alduin—had made a rather bold claim by saying he was not only the son of the chief Divine, but his firstborn as well. I could not say if this claim was true, but I would not have been surprised if it was. Alduin had positioned himself rather far from me, but he still managed to stand over me in an intimidating manner. Son of Auri-El or not, he could easily be a god himself._

_Then, without warning, the dragon spread his wings and took flight._

_"_We shall meet again, Dovahkiin_," he said._

_"__Why do you address me as Dovahkiin?" I asked, "What does it mean?"_

_Alduin refused to answer. He just turned and flew away, quickly leaving my sight. Then my surroundings started to fade, but right before everything went dark, I heard Alduin's voice again._

_"__Daar Lein los dii!"_

I was brought out of the dream by Camilla calling my name.

"Lina! …Lina wake up!"

My eyes opened and I found myself back on the carriage with Camilla and Faendal. I sat up and stretched. My entire body was sore from sleeping on the wooden bench, but at least I now felt somewhat well rested. Then I realized that both Camilla and Faendal were looking at me with concerned expressions.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"You were talking in your sleep," Faendal said, "You said something about a dragon and fire burning everything. And I think I heard you mention Auri-El once…Twice actually, but you called him Akatosh the second time."

"Are you sure?" I asked. I never talk in my sleep, so it was hard to believe that I had.

Camilla and Faendal both nodded. Great. First I start having reoccurring dreams about the black dragon from Helgen and something is on fire or being destroyed each time. Now I'm talking in my sleep. And the dragon mentioned the word "Dovahkiin" again. I still did not know what the word meant, but this time it sounded like a name. Of course, that still didn't explain why the dragon would address me as such.

"I was dreaming about the dragon that attacked Helgen," I said, "He was burning fields while I was forced to watch helplessly."

That was not entirely true, but I did not need them to know anything else about the strange dream.

"Probably the result of trauma," Faendal said, "Witnessing a dragon attack must have been frightening."

"Most likely," I said, but I had a feeling that these reoccurring dreams were the result of more than just emotional trauma. But I had no desire to talk about it anymore and I was worried that Camilla and Faendal would think I was going mad if I did, which is why I was so willing to accept Faendal's theory.

* * *

The rest of the carriage ride was rather uneventful. I told Camilla about Bleak Falls Barrow at her request, although I left out the part about the wall with the glowing markings. She was surprised when I told her that the golden claw was actually some kind of key, but it did explain why those bandits took it. Without the claw, they never would have made it through the dungeon, if I hadn't killed them of course. But then when Camilla realized how close I had come to death fighting the draugr, I could see obvious concern on her face.

We quickly changed the subject.

It didn't take long to reach Whiterun and when we arrived in the city, I said goodbye to Camilla and Faendal and thanked them for accompanying me. I saw them walk towards Belethor's General Goods, planning to browse his merchandise before they went back to Riverwood while I went directly to Dragonsreach to speak with the Jarl.

As I walked up the stairs leading to Dragonsreach, I heard the sound of blades clashing and I glanced at Jorrvaskr where I saw the twins Vilkas and Farkas engaged in a swordfight. I smiled slightly as I recalled getting into plenty of duels with them and the rest of the Companions as well. I made a mental note to go to Jorrvaskr and pay a visit to the Companions after I was done talking to the Jarl. After all, it's been more than three years since I saw any of them.

I continued up the stairs until I reached the massive door to Dragonsreach, but unsurprisingly, the guards blocked my path with their weapons.

"Civilians may not enter Dragonsreach unless they have been summoned by Jarl Balgruuf," one of the guards said.

"Let me pass," I said, "I have urgent news for the Jarl."

"We cannot," the same guard said.

Now I was growing irritated. I could feel magicka flowing through my hands and it took all of my self-control to avoid starting a fire. I did not spend an entire night in Bleak Falls Barrow and risk dying for something that I still could not confirm was the Dragonstone only to be turned away when I finally arrived at Dragonsreach.

"Then how will I let the Jarl know about the dragon that attacked Helgen?" I asked.

That shocked the guards.

"A dragon?" one asked, "Impossible! The dragons disappeared centuries ago!"

"I am not making this up!" I all but shouted, "And the Jarl needs to know what has occurred in his Hold."

"I'm sorry, but your story sounds too unrealistic, Elf," the guard said, "We will have to ask you to leave."

I was about to argue when I heard a familiar voice that I have not heard for more than three years. "Let her pass."

I turned around and the guards looked up, only to come face-to-face with Kodlak, Harbinger of the Companions. Both guards shared a look of annoyance (or at least I think they did. The masks made their faces impossible to read). But it was no secret that the city guards had a strong disliking for the Companions Guild, even though the Jarl had the deepest respect for Kodlak. I suppose they were tired of having to break up drunken brawls outside or Jorrvaskr. Some of the guards were even convinced that we had werewolves hidden in our ranks, but that was likely just from paranoia. I've been part of the Guild for years and have not seen any indication that some of our members could be werewolves. Although I had to admit, Kodlak and the other members of the Circle did seem to be hiding something and all attempts to find out what were futile.

"Harbinger, what are you doing here?" one of the guards asked.

"I _was_ walking back to Jorrvaskr," Kodlak said, "But then I saw you two arguing with a member of my Guild and decided to investigate."

"This High Elf is a Companion?" the guard asked in disbelief. Was it really that hard for him to believe that an Altmer could be a warrior? Or was he convinced that my kind should stick with magic and leave swordfighting to the Nords? I certainly hoped not.

"Yes and she is a fine swordsman as well," Kodlak said, "And I can also tell you that she would have to be a fool to lie about something this serious."

"You mean you believe her?" the second guard asked.

"Yes. I do," Kodlak said, "And I believe the Jarl should listen to what she has to say."

The guards hesitated. I could tell they still did not want to let me pass, but at the same time, they clearly did not want to argue with Kodlak. Especially since Jorrvaskr was so close to Dragonsreach and it would be too easy for the other Companions to rush over here and start a brawl if they felt that the Harbinger was being disrespected. So the guards finally lowered their weapons.

"You may go in, Elf," one of the guards said, "But don't do anything foolish."

"I won't," I said as I walked through the door and into Dragonsreach.


	5. Chapter 5: Calm Before the Storm

**Dovahkiin Fahliil (Elven Dragonborn)**

**Part 1**

**Chapter 5: Calm Before the Storm**

* * *

**Synopsis:**

Lina is an Altmer Warrior Mage and a traitor in the eyes of the Thalmor. After evading them for three years, she is finally caught and sent to Helgen to be executed, but her death sentence is interrupted by the return of the dragons, and more specifically, the World Eater himself. Lina escapes Helgen alive, only be dragged into new dangers and to discover a great secret: She is Dovahkiin and the only one with the power to stop Alduin from causing Nirn's destruction.

Her journey takes place over the course of several years, consisting of a battle against Alduin, Lina's reluctant decision to fight in the Civil War, and learning about a strange connection between her and the World Eater allowing them to see each other in dreams, while at the same time, trying to master her newly discovered powers.

The fanfiction itself is divided into four parts:

**Part 1:**

Lina travels throughout Skyrim searching for Words of Power and ways to get stronger while learning what it means to be Dovahkiin and prepare for the inevitable battle with Alduin. But at the same time, she starts experiencing reoccurring dreams about the World Eater after the events of Helgen. Then to make things worse, there is increasing turmoil in the Guilds Lina is a member of: the College of Winterhold and the Companions.

Part 1 is heavily based on the Main Quest and the Guild Quests.

...

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own the Elder Scrolls franchise, Skyrim, or any of its characters. The only character I own is Lina

...

_A/N: I view this chapter as mostly filler since it's a period of relaxation for Lina, even though there are some events that keep the plot moving. And my current plans for Camilla (and now Faendal) are revealed, but I have to figure out when either character will make a reappearance in future chapters._

_Also, all references to gladiator fights and an arena are inspired by Oblivion, which I had been playing regularly when I wrote the original draft of this chapter. I'm not sure if it's lore accurate for the time Skyrim takes place, but I really don't care._

* * *

For years I've wondered what Dragonsreach looked like from the inside and now I finally had a chance to find out. Just in front of me was a row of pillars and an embroidered rug leading to a small flight of stairs. I walked up the stairs while a few guards stared at me. I could not say I was surprised.

While I had cast a healing spell to get rid of my injuries from Bleak Falls Barrow, I still looked horrible. My clothes were torn and bloodstained and I had draped what remained of my cloak over my chest for the sake of preserving my modesty and covering the skin that was now exposed thanks to that draugr's sword. My hair was also a mess and probably looked like it hadn't been brushed in days. In other words, I looked like someone who didn't belong in Dragonsreach.

For that reason, it hardly surprised me when a Dunmer woman with her sword drawn approached me.

"What are you doing here, Altmer?" she asked, "Jarl Balgruuf did not invite you here."

"I have urgent news for the Jarl," I said. Then I pulled the still-wrapped stone tablet out of my bag, "And I have brought a gift to offer as a sign of trust."

The Dunmer hesitated, but she did sheath her sword. "I suppose that must be true if the guards let you in. Few other than the noblemen and the Harbinger can convince those guards to let them enter Dragonsreach uninvited," she said, "You may approach the Jarl."

"Thank you," I said as I walked past her to Jarl Balgruuf's throne.

Jarl Balgruuf was reclining on his throne, which was under a dragon skull that I couldn't help but wonder if it was real. Even if it wasn't, it was certainly an ironic relic. But when the Jarl saw me, he immediately sat upright and leaned forward.

"Ililreth, who is this Altmer?" the Jarl asked," She looks like she just crawled out of Oblivion itself."

"I cannot say," the Dunmer—Ililreth—replied, "But the guards have allowed her to enter Dragonsreach and she claims to have urgent news. I would suggest that you listen to her, sir."

A man to the Jarl's right shifted uncomfortably. No doubt that he didn't want me here, but Jarl Balgruuf motioned for me to come forward. I took a few steps and gave him a slight bow, but chose to remain silent and allow him to speak first.

"What brings you to Dragonsreach, Altmer?" Jarl Balgruuf asked.

"Sir, I was in the village of Helgen only a few days ago when it was attacked by a dragon with black scales," I said, "For now the dragon seems to have vanished, but I came to inform you as this dragon now poses as a threat to Whiterun and the rest of your Hold should he return."

"That would explain why you are in this condition," Jarl Balgruuf said.

"Actually, this is because I spent most of the night crawling around a dungeon, sir," I said.

The Jarl nodded to acknowledge my words before he stood and faced the dragon skull on the wall above his throne. "They say this skull belonged to a dragon called Numinex, who died long before my time. Supposedly, he was one of the last known dragons in Tamriel. At the time of this death, it was believed that dragons were all but extinct," he said.

"Sir, is there a reason you are telling me this?" I asked.

"It is because I believe you, Altmer," the Jarl said, "I do not find it too surprising that the dragons would return, considering how powerful they were believed to be."

"If what you say is true, then we should send reinforcements to Riverwood as a precaution," Ililreth said.

The man to the Jarl's right scoffed. "I cannot believe what I am hearing. Dragons have not been seen in centuries and most Nords believe they are nothing but creatures of myth. Even you Mer are convinced that the dragons have left Tamriel for good," he looked at Ililreth and me when he said that before turning back to the Jarl, "Now some Altmer in rags shows up claiming she survived a dragon attack and you automatically accept her story as true."

"I am not making this up!" I shouted, frustrated with how frequently my story was doubted, "I really was in Helgen during a dragon attack! I swear it upon Auri-El's name!"

Jarl Balgruuf and the man standing next to him stared at me, clearly astonished by my outburst. I was almost certainly one of the few people who had the audacity to speak in such a manner in the presence of a Jarl, but that did not matter to me. What did matter was getting them to listen. I doubted they knew how sacred a vow made in Auri-El's name was to me, so I unwrapped the stone tablet and held it out where they could see it.

"And consider this—a stone tablet that I spent a night searching for in Bleak Falls Barrow—an offering as proof of my trustworthiness and loyalty to Whiterun Hold!"

Jarl Balgruuf slowly approached me and took the stone tablet from my hands.

"What is this?" he asked.

"I'm not entirely sure, but—" I started, only to be cut off by the voice of an elder man wearing black mage robes.

"That is the Dragonstone," he said as he walked towards the Jarl with a fascinated look in his eyes. At least he confirmed that I did take the correct item from Bleak Falls Barrow.

"Please explain, Farengar," Jarl Balgruuf requested, "I have never heard of this 'Dragonstone.'"

"I came across a mention of it once," Farengar said as he took the stone tablet from the Jarl's hands and flipped it so the claw-like markings were face-up, "The markings on the back are in the dragons' language while the front shows a map of dragon burial sites. I would love to study this and try to decipher both the map and the dragons' writing."

"Then it's yours," Jarl Balgruuf said.

"Thank you, my Jarl," Farengar said before disappearing into a side room with the Dragonstone in his hands.

When Farengar was out of sight, Jarl Balgruuf turned to Ililreth. "Send our available soldiers to Riverwood and have them make the necessary preparations for if this dragon attacks the village," he said.

"Yes, sir," Ililreth said and she turned to leave, most likely for the barracks.

"My Jarl, you cannot be serious," the man standing next to the Jarl said.

"That's enough, Proventus," Jarl Balgruuf said, "If the dragons have truly returned, I intend to protect my Hold and its people."

"Of course, sir," Proventus said, looking down, probably disappointed that the Jarl favored the views of Ililreth…and me, the one who shouldn't even be in Dragonsreach.

With Proventus now silent, Jarl Balgruuf turned his attention to me. "For bringing me this information, you have my thanks, Altmer," he said.

"It's Lina, sir," I said.

"Pardon?"

"Sir, my name is Lina," I said.

"I will remember that if I require more information about Helgen and your black dragon," Jarl Balgruuf said, "But for now, you're dismissed."

I gave another slight bow before turning and walking out of Dragonsreach. But on my way out, I bumped into a woman wearing leather armor and a hooded cloak that was pulled down enough to cover most of her face.

"Be careful, Elf!" she said and I was almost certain she was scowling.

"Sorry," I said, but my tone betrayed annoyance. And I thought this woman's voice sounded familiar for some reason. I had to ask, "Have we met before?"

"Doubtful," the woman said, "I think I would remember meeting an Altmer in rags."

I rolled my eyes. "I've been crawling around in a dungeon filled with undead creatures with no armor or reinforcements. You can hardly expect me to leave such a place looking like a noblewoman."

"Fair enough, though it hardly concerns me what you have been doing," the woman said, "Now if you don't mind, I have urgent matters to discuss with the court wizard Farengar Secret-Fire."

And with that, she walked past me and towards Dragonsreach. I didn't even bother turning to see if the guards argued with her or let her in. It wasn't my concern, though I was secretly hoping the guards would force her to leave. But right now, I was more interested in going to my house where I could get a set of armor and remove these torn clothes.

* * *

My house was close to the gates of Whiterun and was referred to as Breezehome. Thanks to those Oblivion-forsaken Thalmor and the Imperial Legion, my original house key had been lost, but I had buried a spare key under a few plants growing near the door years ago. Of course, now the plants were overgrown with weeds and I had to spend some time pulling those out of the ground before I could dig for the key. And after that it took me a while to actually find the key. Maybe I should have just hidden it under one of the roof tiles instead.

Anyways, I brushed the dirt off the key and used it to unlock the door and walk into Breezehome. Unsurprisingly, the house had gotten rather dusty. I had not been home very often before being branded as a traitor; I spent a fair amount of time traveling back and forth between Whiterun and Winterhold to train with the Companions and the College mages and I had a habit of getting…sidetracked on my travels. Then after I was considered a traitor, coming back to Whiterun had been almost impossible.

Going to any of the major cities was risky, but going to the one I called home was out of the question. Now it didn't matter anymore. I needed things that were here in Breezehome and I didn't have the septims required to buy new equipment. If the Thalmor knew I lived in Whiterun, let them come. Kodlak knew I was here and would sooner let Jorrvaskr burn to the ground than see the Thalmor take a member of his Guild.

I walked up the stairs to the bedchamber, where I kept a chest that I stored armor and weapons in. The chest, along with the bed, the table, the chairs, and the dresser, were covered with dust like the rest of the house. I opened the chest anyways and shifted through its contents. I didn't own a set of Elven armor, despite how much I wanted one, but every time I spoke to Eorlund Gray-Mane or Adrianne, they said they lacked the correct materials and could not make me Elven armor. So for now, the sets of leather armor that I did have would suffice. I pulled a set out of the chest and quickly changed. It felt good to be in armor again. But there was still the issue of my sword.

Unfortunately, all of my ebony swords were gone. I took them with me when I went to Cyrodiil and now the Thalmor and the Imperial Legion had them. The only ebony weapon I had left was a dagger, which I tied to my belt and positioned so it would be all but unseen. And the remaining swords I had were not too impressive. Well, there was an Elven sword that I took with me from the Summerset Isles, but that sword was one that I hadn't used since I was a teenager. Now that I was in my twenties and far stronger than I had been when I first came to Skyrim, the sword felt awkward in my hand and improperly balanced.

And the remaining swords were steel and iron ones. Iron swords were the least durable (Vilkas once told me that he believed the only use for iron swords was training. In battle, it was better to have a steel weapon). I suppose that meant I would be stuck with the steel sword currently at my hip until I could get a blacksmith to make me a new ebony one.

Satisfied to be wearing armor and have my weapons secure, I left Breezehome and walked to Jorrvaskr. I wanted to thank Kodlak for convincing the guards to let me enter Dragonsreach as well as visit the other members of our Guild.

When I arrived at the mead hall, Vilkas and Farkas were nowhere to be seen. They must have finished sparring some time ago and went inside. I reached for the door and pushed it open, wondering how much had changed in three years.

...

Apparently, the answer was nothing had changed. When I walked inside, Aela the Huntress and Ria were engaged in an intense wrestling match while the rest of the Companions cheered them on and drank from tankards full of mead. I smiled slightly as I recalled walking in on a similar scene when I first came to Jorrvaskr years ago. The only difference was the members of the Guild that had been fighting at the time. I went to stand in a corner and leaned against the wall, watching the two women wrestle.

Eventually, Farkas shifted his gaze from the wrestling match to where I stood, most likely because he thought he heard me shifting. I saw his eyes widen as he did a double take, clearly shocked to see me. He did not hesitate to get up and approach me.

"Lina," he said, "You're really back.

* * *

The next several hours were spent sitting at the long table with tankards full of mead. Farkas had immediately dragged me to where the rest of the Companions had been and loudly announced my return. Most of them quickly turned in our direction (after all, it is hard to ignore such an unnecessarily loud introduction), but Aela pinned Ria to the ground and forced her to yield first. Then she hastily got up to greet me.

"Kodlak told us he saw you outside of Dragonsreach earlier," Alea said.

"Yes, but my business with the Jarl is done, so I decided to visit my Shield Brothers and Sisters," I said.

"And we're glad you did," Vilkas said, "We haven't seen you in so long."

Sjkor rolled his eyes. It seemed like only he was completely indifferent to my return, but the two of us had never been close, so it was not surprising. If he had rushed to greet me as Aela or Farkas had, I would have assumed he was drunk. Or maybe possessed by Sheogorath. Or both.

Once we were done exchanging greetings, we sat at the table where Vilkas placed a tankard in front of me. "You might be an Elf, but I'll have you drinking like a Nord," he teased.

"You've been saying that since I joined the Guild," I said and took a sip of mead.

"That's because it's true," Vilkas said and proceeded to drain the contents of his own tankard.

"Yet I'm still a lightweight," I stated.

Vilkas ignored me in favor of his drink, which surprised me. Normally he and Farkas would not ignore an opportunity to make fun of my poor alcohol tolerance and address me as a milk-drinker. Maybe it was just because they hadn't seen me in three years and decided to play nice for now.

With Vilkas now silent, Aela spoke next, "So is there a reason you haven't been to Jorrvaskr or even Whiterun during the last three years?" she asked.

"I was hiding from the Thalmor," I said.

Vilkas and Farkas shared amused grins. To them—and the rest of the Companions—it was no secret that I hated the Thalmor and openly worshipped Talos, which the amulet hanging around my neck only reinforced.

"What did you do? Run around the Embassy yelling 'Praise Talos?'" Farkas asked.

"Not quite," I said, "I killed off some of their patrols and tried to burn down the Embassy."

That surprised everyone within hearing range. Such an assault on the Embassy was too reckless, even for someone like me. So I proceeded to tell the Companions about my time on the run prior to my attempt to burn down the Embassy and then my time in Cyrodiil after the assault.

In Cyrodiil, I did see a few Thalmor in some of the major cities, but I did not see any wanted posters with my face on them, which had been good news. But I still decided to act somewhat cautious. I went by the false name of Celria and frequently covered my forehead tattoo with a scrap of cloth or a hood if I had been wearing a cloak. For the most part, I tried to keep a low profile and avoid drawing attention to myself, but in the last month before I returned to Skyrim, I went to the Imperial City and found out about the arena.

Originally, I only went as a spectator and watching the gladiators fight to the death had been surprisingly entertaining. But then I found out that the arena was in need of fresh meat and decided to compete as a gladiator for septims.

The fights were intense and always to the death. I only fought a handful of times and seldom against any experienced gladiators, not to say that the fights were easy. Far from it. My most challenging opponents were archers, but for me that was nothing new (although it did reinforce all of my reasons for not liking archers). Facing swordsmen was less of a challenge (though still difficult), but it was far more enjoyable.

After I finished telling the Companions about the arena, I could see a few envious gazes (I suppose a number of them wanted to try fighting as gladiators) and Vilkas gave me an approving look.

"Sounds like all of your training has paid off," he said.

"Well I did learn from the best," I said. And Vilkas should know; He was the reason I could handle a sword so well. I had learned the basics of sword fighting when I still lived in the Summerset Isles, but I had been mostly self-taught when I came to Skyrim. Then when I came to Jorrvaskr, I learned that Vilkas had been a far superior swordsman to anyone I had trained with in the past. After I was accepted into the Companions Guild, I all but begged Vilkas to train me and he agreed, claiming that I had the potential to be a great swordsman.

I still remembered our early duels. I almost never won in the beginning and when I did, it was more based on luck than skill. And Vilkas would drill me until I was too tired to hold my sword. It was worth it though. I learned quickly and now we were close to equals with the blade. The only advantage Vilkas still had over me was experience, but that was not enough to keep me from besting him in some of our duels.

After that, I felt that they had a right to know about Helgen and the black dragon, but apparently, Kodlak already told them what he overheard during my argument with the guards outside of Dragonsreach. The Companions trusted and respected Kodlak enough to accept the story as true to my relief. They also assured me that if the dragon dared to attack Whiterun, they would drive it away or shoot it out of the sky so it could not terrorize Skyrim or the neighboring countries. I had no doubt they would at least try and as a member of the Guild, I would join them in their efforts.

* * *

We continued talking and drinking for some time (and Vilkas and Farkas finally started teasing me for being a milk-drinker and a lightweight when I refused drink more than two full tankards). Then Kodlak walked into the mead hall and I immediately stood to greet him and give him my thanks for earlier.

Kodlak looked at me as I approached.

"Harbinger," I said, giving a slight bow.

"Lina, I've told you at least a thousand times not to be so formal here," Kodlak said, but I could tell he was secretly amused after seeing someone like me, the short-tempered and impulsive pyromancer (as a number of people described me), trying to speak formally.

"Sorry, sir," I said, "But I want to thank you for helping enter Dragonseach earlier."

"Someone had to force those guards to listen to reason," Kodlak said, "If they had any sense, they would have let you pass once you told them you needed to report to the Jarl."

"I doubt they do," I said, "Very few guards seem capable of intelligent thought. All they are good at is fighting and obeying orders."

"Unfortunately, that seems to be true," Kodlak said, "But at least you were able to speak with the Jarl."

I nodded. "And unlike the guards, Jarl Balgruuf was willing to listen to me and send reinforcements to Riverwood in case the dragon returns."

Kodlak gave me an approving look. "Then why don't you spend some time here?" he suggested, "After all you're been through, you deserve a break. And besides, we're glad to have you back."

"It's good to be back, sir," I said.

* * *

I spent the next two weeks in Whiterun and most of that time was spent either cleaning Breezehome or in Jorrvaskr with the Companions. When I was at Jorrvaskr, Vilkas and Farkas frequently insisted on sparring with me. Both of them were curious to if I learned any new skills during my time as a gladiator. I did, but the twins were still formidable opponents in a duel.

...

After one sparring match, I decided to go to the Skyforge and talk to Eorlund Gray-Mane about getting a new ebony sword. He briefly looked up from the forge when he heard me approach and sighed.

"Lina, if you are planning to ask me if I can make you a set of Elven armor, my answer is still the same as the last several times," Eorlund said, "I am more than capable of forging such armor, but I do not have the material needed to do so."

"The last time I asked you for Elven armor was more than three years ago," I stated.

"But you asked me every time you came back to Whiterun," Eorlund said, "Why should this time be any different?"

"Fair point," I said, "But this time I wanted to ask if you could forge an ebony sword for me."

"Ebony weapons are easy enough to craft, "Eorlund said, "But like with the Elven armor, I don't have the correct materials right now."

"I understand," I said, trying to hide my disappointment.

"I'm sorry Lina, but new ebony weapons are just out of the question right now," Eorlund said, "When the next shipment of supplies comes in, I should be able to get the necessary materials, but until then, that steel sword you're carrying will have to suffice."

"I suppose so," I said. The steel sword was vastly inferior to an ebony one, but it still served its purpose. I then said goodbye to Eorlund Gray-Mane and returned to Breezehome for the night.

* * *

A couple days later, I saw Camilla and Faendal walking into the Bannered Mare. Seeing them still in Whiterun was a surprise. I thought they would have gone back to Riverwood by now, but since they haven't, I decided to enter the tavern as well to see what they were still doing here.

Inside the tavern, I saw the two of them sitting at a table far from the other ones and talking quietly, almost certainly hoping they would not be overheard. I slowly approached their table, straining my ears to listen to their conversation.

"Camilla, it's a bad idea. If Lucan finds out…"

"Don't worry. He won't find out."

"He will if we don't go back to Riverwood."

"We can send a courier to tell him that we're staying in Whiterun for a few more weeks."

"Even if he accepts that, he'll still come here to look for you eventually."

By then I was right next to the table. "Mind if I join you?" I asked.

Camilla and Faendal both jumped when they heard my voice.

"Lina! When did you get here?" Camilla asked.

"Just now," I said as I took a seat next to her, "So what was it that you were saying about not going back to Riverwood?"

Both Camilla and Faendal hesitated to speak. It was obvious that they did not want anyone to know about their plans and it took a while before Camilla finally decided to say something.

"I want to travel Skyrim," she said, "I'm tired of my boring life in Riverwood."

"Then do it," I said, "People like us need adventures."

"But you forget that her brother is determined to keep Camilla in Riverwood," Faendal said.

"That shouldn't be enough to stop her," I said, "A number of people discouraged me from leaving the Summerset Isles, but I came to Skyrim anyways."

"But that's different," Faendal insisted.

"How so?" I asked, "The circumstances were similar. I wanted to travel and get away from a life that wasn't for me."

"But…Camilla doesn't know how to fight and she's not a mage," Faendal said.

"So teach her," I said, "A Bosmer archer should be able to show her how to handle a bow. If I remember correctly, your kind is as naturally gifted at archery as my kind is at magic."

"You're right, but I—" Faendal started.

"Faendal, please," Camilla begged, "I really want to do this and I know you can protect me until I learn how to use a weapon for myself."

Faendal blushed slightly and I was under the impression that he had all but forgotten what he wanted to say next. Or maybe he just realized that arguing with Camilla was a lost cause. Or he could have been secretly looking for adventure as well. But whatever his reason was, Faendal sighed and said, "Alright, tomorrow we'll leave to explore Skyrim."

Camilla grinned. "Thank you so much," she said and then leaned over the table and kissed Faendal on the forehead. His face turned red and his eyes widened from shock. I suppose he wasn't expecting to get a kiss for agreeing to take Camilla on an adventure. I, on the other hand, was trying not to laugh at his reaction and displayed a rare amount of self-control by succeeding.

After that I stood and said goodbye to Camilla and Faendal. They needed time to prepare to travel Skyrim and I was tired. It was after dark and I had spent most of the day sparring with the Companions again. So I left the Bannered Mare and walked back to Breezehome.

* * *

I saw Camilla and Faendal off the following day, but that night I had yet another dream regarding the black dragon from Helgen. I had actually been experiencing these reoccurring dreams every time I fell asleep, but usually the dream was essentially the same as the previous time.

I always found myself facing the black dragon in an unfamiliar burning location, usually a tower or an open field. The dragon would fly around for a short period of time and then land to briefly speak with me. Whenever he spoke, it was in his unfamiliar language and on the rare occasion when he spoke Elvish instead, it was nothing but him insulting me for my ignorance. He never spoke the Common Tongue for some reason though. That night was no exception, but a few days later, near the end of the week, the dream had changed.

...

_The black dragon circled overhead, but he didn't even acknowledge my presence and he was soon joined by another dragon. The two of them flew in circles, conversing in their unfamiliar language. I could not understand them, but I could tell that they were arguing and the black dragon was winning said argument. Eventually, they switched to the Common Tongue though._

_"__Seek out the one with Dovah-Sil for me, Mirmulnir," the black dragon told his companion, "I am certain you will sense her as I have."_

_"__Yes, Thuri Alduin," Mirmulnir said, "But where shall I begin my search?"_

_"__Investigate the Joor cities until you can sense her," Alduin said, "Then when you find her, finish her. Or better yet, bring her to me alive so I can do it myself."_

_The other dragon made a sound of acknowledgement and flew off. Alduin watched Mirmulnir leave before he finally looked at me as if he only just realized I was there. He went into a short dive before hovering above me and stared at me for a second before speaking._

_"__So you heard that, Dovahkiin?"_

_I nodded, even though I still did not know what "Dovahkiin" meant, but there was no point in asking. I tried to ask Alduin every time I spoke to him, but he refused to give me an answer and I doubted he would this time._

_"__Good. It's time for your skills to be tested," Alduin said._

_And with that, he left._

...

I woke up after that and quickly donned my armor. I don't know why, but I felt like that had been more than just another reoccurring dream. Something told me it had been a warning as well. A warning of something that would happen very soon. And I wanted to be prepared.

* * *

Sometime later, I left Breezehome with the intention of going to Jorrvaskr again, but I only too a few steps before I heard a rather…unpleasant sound. It was faint and somewhat distant, but still uncomfortably close to Whiterun. And I knew exactly what it had been:

A dragon's roar.


	6. Chapter 6: The Legends Might Be True

**Dovahkiin Fahliil (Elven Dragonborn)**

**Part 1**

**Chapter 6: The Legends Might be True**

* * *

**Synopsis:**

Lina is an Altmer Warrior Mage and a traitor in the eyes of the Thalmor. After evading them for three years, she is finally caught and sent to Helgen to be executed, but her death sentence is interrupted by the return of the dragons, and more specifically, the World Eater himself. Lina escapes Helgen alive, only be dragged into new dangers and to discover a great secret: She is Dovahkiin and the only one with the power to stop Alduin from causing Nirn's destruction.

Her journey takes place over the course of several years, consisting of a battle against Alduin, Lina's reluctant decision to fight in the Civil War, and learning about a strange connection between her and the World Eater allowing them to see each other in dreams, while at the same time, trying to master her newly discovered powers.

The fanfiction itself is divided into four parts:

**Part 1:**

Lina travels throughout Skyrim searching for Words of Power and ways to get stronger while learning what it means to be Dovahkiin and prepare for the inevitable battle with Alduin. But at the same time, she starts experiencing reoccurring dreams about the World Eater after the events of Helgen. Then to make things worse, there is increasing turmoil in the Guilds Lina is a member of: the College of Winterhold and the Companions.

Part 1 is heavily based on the Main Quest and the Guild Quests.

...

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own the Elder Scrolls franchise, Skyrim, or any of its characters. The only character I own is Lina

...

_A/N: I don't really have a lot to say about this chapter without retyping the artist's comments from the version on my deviantart account. Lina gets into her first dragon fight, in which I tried to make it seem like victory was based more on luck than skill, and I increased the number of guards from the actual in-game fight for the sake of having some cannon-fodder. And realistically, if a dragon was attacking a populated city or nearby area, more than just a handful of guards would be sent to deal with it._

* * *

My first impulse was to run to Jorrvaskr and rally the Companions to take down the dragon. I did not know if it was the same dragon from Helgen, but even if it wasn't, that experience was enough to convince me that I needed strong warriors at my side if this dragon attacked Whiterun. But before I could even take a few steps, I saw the Dunmer woman from Dragonsreach pushing through a crowd and coming in my general direction. What was her name again? Oh, right. Ililreth.

Then our eyes locked and she immediately ran to me.

"I've been looking for you, Altmer," she said, "A dragon has been seen attacking the Western Watchtower and Jarl Balgruuf asked me to bring you to investigate with me and the guards."

"Why would the Jarl want me?" I asked, "I'm not a soldier."

"He said it was because you claimed to survive a dragon attack in Helgen," Ililreth said, "Now come with me."

I didn't bother arguing and instead followed Ililreth through the city gates. Outside of Whiterun there were maybe fifteen guards that were apparently waiting for us.

"So you were able to find her, Ililreth," one of the guards said.

"Yes and we better get moving," Ililreth said, "It looks like the dragon is gone now, but it might come back."

The guards made sounds of acknowledgment before drawing their weapons and advancing. I didn't need an order to do the same. We moved towards a now destroyed tower and one glance was enough to make it obvious that a dragon was responsible. Nothing else, save for catapults, could do this kind of damage to a stone tower and besides, the fields were still burning. But Ililreth was right: the dragon was gone now.

Convinced that it was safe, Ililreth ordered the guards to go to the tower and I followed close behind. We reached the destroyed tower without the dragon making an appearance and Ililreth told the guards to search for survivors, but I doubted she would find any here. An intelligent man would flee and the fools who didn't would almost certainly be dead. But I still walked among the wreckage with the guards, only to pause when I came to a charred body.

A guard who stood close to me looked like seeing a burned corpse disturbed him greatly and I could hardly blame him. My first kill had been a thief back in the Summerset Isles and I took his life using magic alone. Before then, I had never used magic to harm anyone and the only time I used it against someone living was during training sessions with experienced mages who could protect themselves. And I had been fairly young at the time; it had been only a couple days after my twelfth birthday.

Seeing the aftermath of my fire spell had made me sick. Of course, being a pyromancer meant that I had to grow accustomed to seeing the dead like this, especially since my kills only increased in number over the years. Now that I was twenty-three and an experienced fighter, I had grown all but numb to the sight of burned flesh.

I walked away from the charred body and took a few steps towards the tower, but then I heard a loud roar and looked up. To my surprise, the dragon was coming back.

This was not the same dragon from Helgen. This one was smaller and had green scales instead of black ones, but he looked familiar and for a good reason: This was one of the two dragons that appeared in my dream the night before. The one called Mirmulnir.

"It's coming towards us!" one of the guards shouted.

"Archers! Ready your arrows!" Ililreth commanded.

Seven of the fifteen guards were armed with bows and all of them took aim at the dragon. He easily dodged most of the arrows and the ones that did hit did nothing to slow his approach as he dove towards us.

"YOL TOOR SHUL!"

I heard the dragon's voice and automatically cast a ward to shield myself and the closest guard from the incoming fire. Fortunately for us, it was just a short burst of fire, nothing I could not tolerate with the ward in place. But two archers and a guard carrying an axe were unable to find cover in time and were killed by the intense flames.

When the dragon's fiery attack stopped, Mirmulnir circled the tower again and the five remaining archers shot at him. More arrows hit this time, but they still did nothing to bring him down. In fact, the closest Mirmulnir came to even acknowledging that he had been hit was a growl of annoyance. I could tell that arrows alone wouldn't be enough to force this dragon out of the sky, but if I wanted to do anything useful, I would have to get closer.

I glanced at the destroyed tower, relieved to find that the spiral staircase was still mostly intact, even though most of the walls were torn apart. My gaze briefly shifted back to Mirmulnir to confirm that he wasn't planning to unleash more fire and then I bolted for the stairs, only to stop when I heard a guard's voice.

"What do you think you're doing, Elf?"

"Getting to higher grounds," I answered and ran up the spiral staircase.

I made it halfway to the top when Mirmulnir decided to target me rather than the archers who were still firing at him (and by now he had managed to kill at least two more of them along with a swordsman). He landed on the tower and looked directly at me before shouting the three words that I heard every time he unleashed fire.

"YOL TOOR SHUL!"

I once again cast a ward to block the incoming flames, but this time, it was not just short burst of fire. The dragon sustained his flames long enough for me to start sweating and for the stone I was standing on to get unbearably hot. For once, I was grateful that I was forced to wear leather armor instead of the Elven set I desired. Without proper fire enchantments, the metal of Elven armor would have only made the heat worse. But I could feel my magicka draining and knew I would be forced to lower the ward soon, regardless of if the Mirmulnir stopped his attack or not.

The dragon's fiery attack continued until I felt my breathing grow heavy as I used the last reserves of my magicka. Then just when I thought I would have to give up, the dragon's fire ceased and I was able to lower my ward, although by then I was panting from the exhaustion that always came from reaching my magicka limits and I did not even bother trying to conceal it.

"You lasted longer than I thought you would, Fahliil," Mirmulnir said, "Few Joor can stand against the fire of a Dovah for more than a short period of time, even with your magic."

"I am…a…pyromancer…and an…Altmer mage…one of…the…most naturally gifted…spellcasters…in Tamriel," I said breathlessly, "Outlasting fire…is…hardly a challenge…for me."

It was a bluff of course and I doubted I had convinced the dragon otherwise (even a fool could tell that I was exhausted by now), but I could not afford to show obvious weakness.

The dragon scoffed. "I know a bluff when I see one, Fahliil," he said, "You're breathing is heavy and you have exhausted your magicka. But unfortunately for you, the fight has only just begun!"

Mirmulnir then lunged at me and I instinctively jumped back and wildly swung my sword at him. The dragon recoiled when my blade made contact with his face, even though the cut I gave him couldn't have felt worse than a minor scratch. Perhaps he was just surprised that I managed to draw blood at all. After all, none of the archers had achieved that.

"What do you want with me anyways?" I asked, my breathing more even now, "I'm just one Altmer accompanying a party of guards."

"Those Joor are insignificant to me," Mirmulnir said, "You are the one Thuri Alduin has ordered me to seek out."

My eyes widened in surprise. The same thing occurred in my dream last night…but I still did not understand how this was possible. Was I having visions of events connected to the black dragon—Alduin? I wanted to know the answer to this question, but that would have to wait. Now I had to focus on defending myself and finding a way to kill this dragon.

Mirmulnir lunged at me, snapping violently. I jumped back again, but his sword-like teeth had come uncomfortably close to me and unlike an actual sword, they could not be easily blocked or parried. And I was still too drained to use magic again, so I would need to do something else. And soon.

So when Mirmulnir pulled his head back and took a deep breath that would almost certainly be released as fire, I ran towards him and lunged with my sword extended. When I was close enough, I stabbed my sword into the dragon's shoulder bone where his wing was connected to his body.

Mirmulnir howled in pain and released a burst of fire into the air (I think I heard him shout "Yol," but it was difficult to tell). I forced my sword deeper into his shoulder and felt blood run down the blade and hilt and then my hand. It felt hot and thick, but that was not enough to convince me to let go. Besides, this was hardly the first time I had to deal with the unpleasant experience of an enemy's blood getting on me.

At first, Mirmulnir tried to grab me with his jaws, but I was positioned where he would have trouble reaching me, so he started flailing around in an attempt to force me to withdraw my sword. I only tightened my grip on the hilt and grabbed it with my other hand. The steel sword was meant for one-handed fighting, so the hilt was barely long enough for me to grip it with both hands and the dragon blood wasn't making it any less difficult.

I grunted from the pain as Mirmulnir battered me against his side during his flailing. His rough scales scraped against the exposed parts of my arms and threatened to tear the leather armor. I had to bite my lip to avoid crying out from the pain at one point.

Eventually, Mirmulnir must have realized that he would not succeed getting me to let go this was and the flailing ceased. By then I was covered in bruises and scrapes and I didn't think there was a single part of me that didn't hurt. But my armor was still intact, thank the Nine.

"Remove your sword, Fahliil and I might let you live long enough to face Thuri Alduin," Mirmulnir said.

"Never," I said, glaring at him. If Mirmulnir thought I would agree to a course of action to escape death at his claws only to be slain by another dragon, he was a fool. And people say I'm horrible at diplomacy.

"So be it," Mirmulnir growled, "This will end in your death then!"

And with that, he took flight, dragging me with him. He circled the tower a few more times, breathing fire on anyone who couldn't find cover in time or who was improperly using a shield (but I was under the impression that the shields had fire resistance enchantments on them).

At first I wondered what the purpose of this was. Mirmulnir said I was the one he as after and I was all but attached to him as I desperately clung to the sword hilt. Then I realized that he was most likely waiting for me to tire out and let go of the sword. Then gravity would take over and I would fall to my death.

So far his plan was working well. My arms already hurt from the scrapes Mirmulnir gave me while he had been flailing around, but now there was the strain on my muscles, which only made my arms hurt even more. How long would I be able to hold on? A few minutes perhaps? Maybe not even. Had this been a smooth fight, only fatigue would have threatened me, but Mirmulnir was making sharp turns and dives to evade arrows and attack the surviving guards. I was just as likely to be thrown off as I was to let go from my arms no longer being able to support me.

Mirmulnir pulled up from a dive and I felt my hands start to slip. I desperately struggled to hold on, but the dragon blood covering my hands and the hilt made it difficult to maintain my grip.

I dared to look down to see how bad the inevitable fall would be and I immediately regretted it. Heights did not bother me and under different circumstances, I might have actually found this enjoyable. What bothered me was how great the fall would end up being. If I let go of the sword now, I was almost guaranteed death.

But fortunately for me, Mirmulnir did not seem to be paying attention to me and was likely unaware of how much I was struggling to avoid falling. One of the archers fired an arrow, which Mirmulnir made a sharp dive to avoid. Then as he neared the ground, he made a hard right turn and my hands finally slipped off the hilt, sending me to the ground.

Because of that last dive, I was close enough to the ground to survive the fall, but it was still far enough to leave me severely bruised and with at least a few broken ribs. The impact alone was painful enough and then I rolled for a few feet before I was finally still and the pain became overwhelming. I could barely move without trying to suppress an agonizing cry. But I did manage to look up in time to see the dragon flying towards me, most likely to see if I was dead and finish the job when he realized I wasn't.

Staying here wasn't an option. I was too exposed, but I still couldn't find the strength to stand. The only movement I could manage was weakly raising my hand to cast a healing spell. But just as the glow of the spell started to engulf me, I saw Ililreth and one of the surviving guards running towards me, Ililreth now carrying a shield that she likely took from a guard that had been killed. At the same time, Mirmulnir prepared to unleash his fire breath again. He went into another low dive before shouting the usual three words.

"YOL TOOR SHUL!"

Ililreth and the guard had barely gotten to me in time and knelt with their shields raised to block most of the incoming fire. By then the healing spell had started to take effect and I was able to move into a position to duck behind the shields and finish healing.

It didn't take long for Ililreth (and probably the guard) to start sweating and for Ililreth's face to twist into an expression that showed obvious discomfort. The fire was getting too hot for them, even if the shields were enchanted to withstand it (and I was certain they were. How else could a simple shield keep them from being burned alive?). The fire was getting too hot for _me_ and I wasn't as close to it as they were.

Eventually, the fire stopped and Ililreth and the guard quickly tossed their shields aside, cringing from the slight burns on their arms. Ililreth watched the dragon's movements, but the guard approached me as I was getting to my feet.

"You alright, Elf?" he asked.

"I'll live," I said, "How many of us are left?"

"Aside from the three of us?" the guard asked, "Just one archer and two swordsmen."

I glanced towards the tower and saw the three surviving guards this one mentioned along with the bodies of the dead ones. I know I shouldn't have been surprised that a dragon could kill eleven guards with such ease after the events in Helgen, but it was still astonishing seeing so many dead in such a short period of time. Even the Companions could not take out trained warriors this quickly.

And the surviving guards might soon be counted among the dead. The two swordsmen were desperately struggling to find cover while the archer looked like he was running low on arrows. I knew we wouldn't last much longer.

But I still forced my gaze to shift to Mirmulnir, hoping that he was at least starting to tire out or give some indication that he was going to leave. Predictably, he was still circling the tower, but he was flying low and one of his wings was moving awkwardly. And for a good reason. My sword was still lodged in his shoulder and it was almost certainly causing him pain. Naturally, he wouldn't be able to fly as effectively, but I was disappointed that it hadn't been enough to cripple the dragon and render him flightless.

Mirmulnir flew in a circle and came towards us, but then he was hit by an arrow that had been fired from the opposite direction of the archer's current position. Ililreth and I shared a look of astonishment and quickly turned to identify the source of the arrow. To my surprise (and relief), I saw Aela the Huntress standing not far from my position with a bow in her hand. And Vilkas and Farkas were not far behind.

"Aela!" I called out and ran to her, "When did you get here?"

"Just now," she said, "We could easily hear the dragon from Jorrvaskr and decided to investigate."

At that moment, Vilkas and Farkas were finally at her side.

"Tell me we're not too late," Vilkas said, "I would love the opportunity to slay such a powerful creature."

"Actually, your timing is perfect," I said, "Most of the guards have been killed and we could use reinforcements."

Vilkas and Farkas grinned, but Ililreth approached the three Companions, scowling. I was under the impression that she, like the guards, had a strong disliking for our Guild. Most ranking officers did. We were too rowdy and disorganized for the more militaristic warriors.

"I would question why you three have shown up, but with so many of the guards dead, I'll take any help I can get," Ililreth said.

"Good to hear," Aela said as she drew a second arrow and fired at Mirmulnir.

This one hit him in the eye and the dragon roared from the pain and from being now partially blind. Aela fired a few more arrows and, while only one missed, she failed to do anything to harm Mirmulnir. In an attempt to help, I charged a couple fireballs and threw them at the dragon. He easily dodged one and the other only grazed his scales. I growled in frustration. My aim has never been good, but I thought I would have been able to hit Mirmulnir with one of the fireballs. If only that dragon would land already…

Vilkas and Farkas must have been having similar thoughts because they both looked at Aela and Vilkas shouted, "Aela, get that thing to land! We can't do anything while it's airborne!"

"What do you think I've been trying to do?" Aela asked, "My arrows aren't doing enough damage to ground it!"

But she still drew another arrow and took aim. And I had an idea.

"Shoot at his wings!" I told her.

Aela nodded and lined up her arrow, aiming towards Mirmulnir's injured wing. She then fired and, because Mirmulnir was having some difficulty flying, he couldn't dive in time to evade the arrow and it punctured his wing's membrane, which I was guessing was incredibly sensitive. Especially since the roar that followed was so loud.

Ililreth turned to her remaining archer. "Fire at the wings!" she shouted, "They're vulnerable!"

The archer fired whatever arrows he had left along with Aela. Evading the arrows was all but impossible for Mirmulnir with his injured wing and said wing was only getting worse as more arrows were fired. Eventually, remaining airborne became too much for him and Mirmulnir was forced to land (ungracefully I might add). Clearly frustrated, the dragon turned his attention to us, growling. He then inhaled deeply and I knew what was coming next.

"YOL TOOR SHUL!"

I reflexively cast a ward to protect myself while Vilkas and Farkas darted to the side while Ililreth and the guard ran in the opposite direction. But then Aela tackled me and the two of us barely rolled out of the dragon fire's range in time.

"Conserve your magicka," she told me, "You will need your energy to fight."

"Right," I said as I got off the ground.

We waited until the fire ceased. Then Vilkas, Farkas, Ililreth, and three of the four remaining guards charged at Mirmulnir shouting battle cries.

"For Skyrim!"

"Victory or Sovngarde!"

I intended to charge as well, but I felt Aela grab my wrist.

"You seem to be missing a sword," she said before unsheathing her own and handing it to me. I took the steel weapon, once again wishing for ebony, but now was not the time to think about my weapon preferences.

Now with a sword in hand, I charged at the dragon. He was already preoccupied with the twins and Ililreth to notice me. All of them were positioned at Mirmulnir's sides where it would be difficult for him to unleash fire at them and they all struck at his neck repeatedly with their blades. Mirmulnir roared in pain as the swords found and pierced the weak spots in his armor-like scales, but his once thunderous voice was growing weak. It almost sounded like making sound in general was becoming hard for him. I could only hope that breathing fire was too.

Then when I was close enough, I did something reckless.

Mirmulnir had foolishly lowered himself to snap at Vilkas (who jumped out of the way and slashed at the dragon's face), which gave me a chance to grab the scales on his neck and pull myself onto his back. Of course, it didn't take long for Mirmulnir to realize I was on him and he started flailing around in a pathetic attempt to knock me off. Well, I only say pathetic because the increasing number of wounds were making it difficult for the dragon to move effectively. I still desperately clung to his scales to avoid being thrown off and probably got a few bruises in the process.

"Get off of me, Fahliil," Mirmulnir demanded.

"Forget it," I growled as I pulled myself towards his head.

Mirmulnir probably would have started flailing around again, but one of the guards chose that moment to sneak up behind him and stab his blade into Mirmulnir's tail. So instead he jerked upright, roaring from the unexpected pain and, while it threw me off-balance and once again forced me to cling to the dragon's scales to steady myself, I now had an opening for an attack.

I screamed a savage war cry and stabbed Aela's sword as far into Mirmulnir's head as possible. Mirmulnir cried out in pain and then collapsed with me now holding the sword with two hands.

"This is for Helgen," I said in a low voice.

Mirmulnir probably wanted to retort, but his energy was fading, as was his will to fight me. But with his last breath he managed to get out one broken word, "Dov…ah…kiin."

And with that, his eyes glazed over and Mirmulnir was finally still.

But just as I pulled Aela's sword free from his skull something…strange happened.

The dragon's body started to burn, but there was no fire. The scales just disintegrated, leaving nothing but a skeleton, and I felt some strange source of energy rush from the dragon corpse into me. My vision blurred slightly and I felt as if a strong blast of wind hit me. My hair and exposed Amulet of Talos blew past me and I heard the same word from Bleak Falls Barrow echoing in my head.

_Fus—Force_

_Unrelenting Force_

Then it all stopped and I found the four remaining guards, the Companions, and Ililreth staring at me in shock. It took some time before anyone spoke and the first person who did was one of the guards.

"You…You absorbed it's soul!" the guard said, "But that would mean you're Dragonborn!"

"What in Oblivion is a Dragonborn?" I asked as I climbed off the dragon's skull. I heard the term once or twice on occasions when I had asked Onmund to tell me more about Nordic lore, but since he was just as ignorant as I was, I did not know what a Dragonborn was.

"According to legend, the Dragonborn lived during the Era when the dragons still dominated the skies of Tamriel," the guard said, "He was supposed to be a dragonslayer who would steal the power and soul of any dragon he defeated. And I believe that's what you did."

I looked at Mirmulnir's skeleton and then back to the guard. "Are you sure?" I asked.

The guard nodded. "Yes, but to be sure, try to Shout like this dragon did," he said.

I gave the guard a strange look. "Shout?" I repeated.

"Of course," the guard said, "Did you notice that the dragon always shouted before breathing fire?"

"Well yes, but—"

"So if you are Dragonborn, you should be able to as well," the guard said.

_Fus—Force_

The word echoed in my head again. Maybe that was one of these Shouts the guard was talking about. I suppose there wasn't any harm in trying. If I were able to Shout, that would make me some powerful dragonslayer. And if wasn't, it would just mean the guard was wrong. But before I could even whisper the word, another guard—the surviving archer—came forward.

"This is foolish," he said, "The Dragonborn is nothing but a creature of legend and even if they were and actual person, they would be a Nord warrior, not some Thalmor."

"I'm not a Thalmor!" I shouted, which the Amulet of Talos hanging around my neck should have made obvious, but the guards really were morons, "And I'm just as much of a warrior as any trained Nord!"

"It's true," Vilkas said, "I've trained her myself."

"It doesn't matter," the archer said, "What does is that she cannot be Dragonborn."

"Then explain what just happened," the other guard said.

"Simple. A dragon was slain and this Elf happened to get the killing blow," the archer said.

"She took its power!" the guard insisted, "Even if one of us made the final strike, the outcome would have been the same. She would claim its soul."

"Maybe you should give her a chance to test your theory?" Vilkas suggested.

"It would be a waste of time," the archer said, "She doesn't even know what Shouting or the Voice is."

I wanted to say something, but then another guard stepped in.

"I must agree," this guard said, "I've heard a number of stories about the Dragonborn and he has always been a Nord. An Elf cannot be Dragonborn."

"There's a first time for everything," Farkas said, but the guards ignored him.

"Wait. What about Tiber Septim?" the last guard asked, "He was Dragonborn and some claim he was a Breton."

"You know that's just a rumor the Thalmor started to suppress Talos worship!" the other guard shouted, "Tiber Septim was clearly a Nord!"

Ililreth rolled her eyes. "You fools can argue about Tiber Septim's heritage later," she said, "Now we must report to the Jarl and inform him that the dragon is dead."

"Wait," the first guard said, "We still don't know if this Elf is Dragonborn yet."

"And it does not matter," Ililreth said, "You cannot kill dragons with superstition."

"And what if the legends are true?" the guard asked, "Then we will need this Elf to kill any dragons that attack Whiterun in the future."

"And if the legends are nothing but that, you will have done nothing but waste our time," Ililreth said.

The guard said something after that, but I stopped listening at that point. I was growing tired of this argument. And…something was burning inside me that desperately wanted to be unleashed. It wasn't magicka or any kind of fire that I was familiar with. I had grown accustomed to the feeling of desperately wanting to unleash magicka in the form of fire. But this felt…stronger…and more savage.

_Fus—Force_

That word was somehow connected to this feeling. I was sure of it. And I felt this strange power build up until I could no longer suppress it. I opened my mouth and a single word came out.

"FUS!"

Everyone fell silent as my voice knocked them back and left them staggered. Then I was once again met with shocked expressions and once again, it took some time before anyone could speak.

"So…she can Shout," the archer said.

"I believe that's all the proof you need," the first guard said in a smug tone.

"I still don't understand why an Elf of all creatures would be Dragonborn."

"Does it matter? Thanks to her, the dragon was slain."

No one answered that. Instead Ililreth approached me, "Dragonborn or not, you should come with us to report to the Jarl," she said.

"Of course," I said.

* * *

We returned to Whiterun while the Companions chose to stay behind, possibly because they were hoping for another fight or were planning to go hunting. Or maybe they just didn't want to deal with the guards. The disliking between the Companions and the guards seemed to be a mutual one.

But when we reached the steps to Dragonsreach, the ground suddenly shook and a voice spoke the word that had been haunting my dreams since the events at Helgen, "_Dovahkiin_."

The shaking threw all of us off balance, but it wasn't bad enough to send anyone to the ground. But it was over in an instant, leaving me, Ililreth, the guards, and everyone else in Whiterun very confused. Ililreth and I looked at each other and I could see shock on her face that was probably mirrored on mine. My gaze shifted to the guards, who were exchanging glances and I could see others doing the same thing and questioning what happened.

"What was that?"

"Could it be the Greybeards?"

"Why would it be them?"

"Who else has that kind of power?"

"What is this Dovahkiin anyways?"

Even more questions were being asked and voices started to blend together until I could no longer distinguish the individual ones. But while the crowd seemed to grow more panicked, Ililreth quickly composed herself.

"Come on. We still need to report to the Jarl," she said.

I only nodded and we quickly proceeded to Dragonsreach, but I couldn't stop myself from wondering what had caused that small earthquake. And I just felt that the word "Dovahkiin" had been directed at me. After all, it always was in my dreams.


	7. Chapter 7: Travelling Companion

**Dovahkiin Fahliil (Elven Dragonborn)**

**Part 1**

**Chapter 7: Travelling Companion**

* * *

**Synopsis:**

Lina is an Altmer Warrior Mage and a traitor in the eyes of the Thalmor. After evading them for three years, she is finally caught and sent to Helgen to be executed, but her death sentence is interrupted by the return of the dragons, and more specifically, the World Eater himself. Lina escapes Helgen alive, only be dragged into new dangers and to discover a great secret: She is Dovahkiin and the only one with the power to stop Alduin from causing Nirn's destruction.

Her journey takes place over the course of several years, consisting of a battle against Alduin, Lina's reluctant decision to fight in the Civil War, and learning about a strange connection between her and the World Eater allowing them to see each other in dreams, while at the same time, trying to master her newly discovered powers.

The fanfiction itself is divided into four parts:

**Part 1:**

Lina travels throughout Skyrim searching for Words of Power and ways to get stronger while learning what it means to be Dovahkiin and prepare for the inevitable battle with Alduin. But at the same time, she starts experiencing reoccurring dreams about the World Eater after the events of Helgen. Then to make things worse, there is increasing turmoil in the Guilds Lina is a member of: the College of Winterhold and the Companions.

Part 1 is heavily based on the Main Quest and the Guild Quests.

...

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own the Elder Scrolls franchise, Skyrim, or any of its characters. The only character I own is Lina

...

_A/N: Admittedly, this is one of the weaker chapters and the one following it isn't too much better. But I don't think it's anywhere near as bad as the third chapter, which I still think is the worst one I've written so far._

* * *

"So you heard them too," Jarl Balgruuf said.

Ililreth, the surviving guards, and I had just finished telling the Jarl about the events at the Western Watchtower, ending with me killing the dragon and "absorbing its soul and power," as the one guard had said. Then we moved to the voice that spoke the word "_Dovahkiin_," and the guard believing that I might be Dragonborn (actually, it occurred in the form of the one guard proudly declaring that I was Dragonborn and then arguing with Proventus about whether the Dragonborn even existed until Jarl Balgruuf ordered both of them to shut up).

"Sir, all of Whiterun heard the voice," Ililreth said.

The Jarl nodded and got off his throne to approach me.

"Tell me Lina, are you familiar with the Greybeards?" he asked.

"No sir," I said, but I felt somewhat foolish for doing so. I felt like I should have at least heard of these Greybeards since I came to Skyrim, but I hadn't. Neither Onmund nor the Companions ever mentioned them during the many occasions when I asked about Nordic lore.

"Well, the Greybeards are masters of the Voice, an incredible power wielded by Nord warriors of legend," Jarl Balgruuf said, "Normally they remain in High Hrothgar at the Throat of the World and isolate themselves from the outside world. Yet they are the ones who called for this 'Dovahkiin'—You."

I would have been shocked by this if not for Alduin frequently calling me "Dovahkiin" in my dreams (and whatever happened after Mirmulnir died), but that didn't stop Ililreth from being somewhat surprised at the Jarl's statement.

"Sir, do you really think this Altmer is the ones the Greybeards want?" Ililreth asked.

"I don't see how it could be anyone else. After all, she is the one who killed the dragon and you already said that she can Shout," Jarl Balgruuf said. Then he turned to address me again, "It is considered an honor to be summoned by the Greybeards and you should go to High Hrothgar and speak with them. They can confirm that you truly are Dragonborn and teach you how to master your powers."

I nodded in agreement. "Yes, sir," I said.

Besides, these Greybeards might be able to tell me something about the strange dreams I've been having as well. Admittedly, I was curious to learn if I was truly Dragonborn and what that would mean for me (as in what powers I would be able to use; hopefully breathing fire was one of them). But I was more curious about the reoccurring dreams. I wanted to know why I kept seeing Alduin and being able to talk to him—and more importantly, how I was able to see Alduin send Mirmulnir after me.

I gave a slight bow and turned to leave, but the Jarl's voice stopped me.

"Wait. There is one more thing."

I faced him again. "What is it, sir?" I asked.

"Travelling the roads of Skyrim alone is risky, even for a potential Dragonborn," Jarl Balgruuf said, "Therefore I will send Lydia to accompany you."

"Sir, is that really necessary?" I asked, "I've been on my own for years and I've been alright."

"Aye," Jarl Balgruuf said, "I have no doubts that you can fend for yourself, but if you are Dragonborn, we cannot afford to take any chances until you reach High Hrothgar."

I considered protesting, but I decided against it, mostly because I realized the Jarl was right. I might have been able to survive three years of travelling alone, but that didn't make it any less dangerous. Having a partner always made a voyage less risky.

Besides, spending the last two weeks in Whiterun made me realize how lonely my life had become during those last three years. I would have preferred the company of one of the Companions—or better yet, Onmund, my closest friend and ally—but if the Jarl wanted this Lydia to come with me, that had to be a sign that she was a worthy ally at the very least.

"Very well," I said.

Jarl Balgruuf gave me an approving look before turning to Ililreth. "Send for Lydia," he said.

"Yes, my Jarl," Ililreth said and then took off.

The Jarl then offered me a seat at the massive dining table in front of his throne. I hesitated to sit, but then I realized that it would probably take some time for Ililreth to return with Lydia. So I took a seat and waited.

* * *

After perhaps twenty minutes, Ililreth returned with a Nord woman. Said woman had short dark brown hair with a braid commonly worn by her kin. She wore a set of steel armor and carried a shield. A sword was rested on her hip and a quiver of arrows, as well as a bow, were mounted on her back. In other words, she looked like a fine Nord warrior.

Certain that the Nord woman was Lydia, I stood with the intentions of greeting her, but she spoke first.

"You must be Lina, the potential Dragonborn," she said.

I nodded. "Then you must be Lydia," I said.

"Yes," she said, "I have been asked to escort you to High Hrothgar."

"So I've heard," I said, "And if that is so, I would like to be off now."

Lydia only nodded and the two of us silently walked out of Dragonsreach.

* * *

Admittedly, we did not actually leave Whiterun the instant we were outside Dragonsreach.

It occurred to both of us that the journey to the Throat of the World would take several days at the very least and it would be necessary to gather food and provisions first. More specifically, food, potions, and warmer clothes. Even a fool knew that it tended to get colder in the mountains and my leather armor would not do enough to keep me warm without additional clothing (I still did not know how the Nords could travel to such cold environments with minimal clothing and be fine). Besides, I had some more hooded cloaks stored in Breezehome that I wanted to bring both for additional warmth and as a means of hiding from the Thalmor in case we ran into any of their patrols.

Lydia lived in a different part of the city (though she refused to give me the exact location), so we agreed to meet outside the gates of Whiterun once we had everything we desired. I went directly to Breezehome and filled a bag with everything I thought I would need, including a few extra swords, which I bound to the outside of my bag.

Once I was finished in Breezehome, I went to the marketplace for fresh food and Arcadia's Cauldron to buy more potions. By the time I left her shop, Vilkas and Farkas had come back into the city, so I had to say a quick goodbye to them.

"You've barely been back and now you're taking off again," Farkas stated after I told him and Vilkas I was going to see the Greybeards, "Why am I not surprised?"

"Because she's been doing this since we first met her," Vilkas said and then addressed me, "I wish you luck on your journey, not that you'll need it."

"Thank you," I said as I put on threw on the hood to the cloak I was wearing, "And I'll be back for another sparring match."

The twins gave me approving looks and then turned to walk to Jorrvaskr. Once they were gone, I realized I had been in the city far longer than I thought I would and hurried to the gate to meet with Lydia.

Unsurprisingly, Lydia was already standing outside the gate, looking slightly bored.

"I hoped you would be here sooner," she said.

"I apologize," I said, "I was…sidetracked."

Lydia sighed. "I cannot say I'm surprised," she said, "Ililreth told me that you were likely in league with the Companions, so I imagine you would want to say your goodbyes to them."

"It was only the twins," I stated, "And only because we ran into each other when I was leaving."

"Of course," Lydia said, although I doubted she cared what excuse I presented, "But didn't you say you wanted to leave as soon as possible?"

"I did," I said, "So let us be off."

We walked towards the road and I pulled out my map to find an ideal path to the Throat of the World and then High Hrothgar. The mountain range surrounding the Throat of the World was relatively large and it was impossible to guess where an ideal climbing spot would be. However, the village of Ivarstead was located near the mountain base. Perhaps we should go there first and look for a path to High Hrothgar. And even if there wasn't a path, the villagers would almost certainly be able to point us in the right direction from there.

I turned to Lydia. "I think we should go to Ivarstead first and look for a path to High Hrothgar from there," I told her.

"Alright. Lead on," she said indifferently.

And so we left to start yet another adventure.

* * *

After only a few hours of travelling, I was able to confirm my initial thoughts that Lydia was nothing like Onmund or any of the Companions. She was incredibly stoic, doing very little to betray her emotions. We barely even spoke other than to confirm that we were still going the right way and to assess each other's skills (Lydia wanted to know how well I could handle a sword and if I was a mage while I wanted to know if she could aim properly with her bow).

Thinking of something to start a conversation about was difficult and all of my attempts were met with one or two word answers. I suppose her intentions were to remain strictly professional. How boring. Onmund and the Companions were not overly talkative, but at least they knew how to make travelling more interesting.

We continued walking in almost complete silence until after dark when we decided it was necessary to make camp for the night. Lydia suggested a small clearing near the side of the road and the two of us scouted the area for bandits or assassins that could be lurking in the area. None were found by either of us (although scouting would be far easier if I had been able to learn a Detect Life spell, which I intended to do the instant I found an opportunity to go back to the College of Winterhold).

We then took out the bedrolls and set them up a reasonable distance from each other. There was no tent since I found them to be a pain to transport without a horse or cart and apparently Lydia just didn't own one. I suppose most of her combat experience occurred close to Whiterun or the forts in Jarl Balgruuf's Hold. I doubted she was used to camping like I was, but it didn't matter. Sleeping under the stars was fine with her as long as it didn't rain (and there wasn't a single cloud in the sky, so we had no reason to fear a storm).

The process occurred in almost complete silence. The only talking we did was agreeing to sleep in shifts to watch for potential attackers or wild animals. After my bedroll was set up, I sat on it and removed my cloak, only to catch Lydia staring at me—or rather, staring at the amulet hanging around my neck. I tried to ignore her, but then to my surprise, she decided to speak.

"I do not believe I've seen an Altmer wearing an Amulet of Talos before," Lydia said.

"Is that a problem?" I asked harsher than intended, "Not all of us are arrogant supremacists who cannot accept that a man became a Divine."

"I never said that," Lydia said, "It just surprised me."

"I surprises most Nords," I said, still sounding unintentionally harsh, "Especially the ones who think any Altmer they see is in league with the Thalmor."

"Well to be fair, it's uncommon to encounter an Altmer that is not in a Thalmor patrol," Lydia stated, "And those supremacists haven't exactly been the best examples of how your kind behaves."

"I know," I said, looking down and fidgeting with my amulet. There was more I wanted to say, but I didn't know if now was the right time or if Lydia was even the right person to say it to. So I changed the subject instead, "I'll take the first watch."

"Very well," Lydia said and laid on her bedroll.

I walked a few feet from our campsite with one hand on my sword and chose a suitable place to keep watch, where I remained for several hours.

* * *

I woke Lydia when it was her turn to keep watch and then proceeded to lie on my bedroll. I was tired, but I almost didn't want to go to sleep. I knew Alduin would appear in my dreams again since I have yet to experience a night without seeing him after Helgen, but now that Mirmulnir was dead and the Greybeards were calling for the Dovahkiin, Alduin would probably have a few new things to say to me this time. But eventually, I gave in to fatigue and fell asleep.

...

_I found myself standing in the ruins of an ancient city. I didn't recognize the location, but somehow I knew that this city had not been built by men or even Mer. It had been built by dragons and destroyed by nothing but time. For once I could not blame Alduin for the state of my surroundings (and nothing was on fire). And speaking of Alduin, where was he?_

_My question was answered by a loud roar followed by wingbeats and the black dragon landing in front of me. I instinctively jumped back and grabbed my sword, but I forced myself to keep it sheathed. Instead, I forced myself to look at Alduin and try to avoid making it obvious that I felt intimidated by him._

_Alduin looked at me for a moment before he spoke._

_"_So you have killed Mirmulnir,_" he said in Elvish._

_"_Yes, but not before I had to witness him killing eleven guards along with the ones who were slain before my party showed up,_" I said in Elvish as well. If Alduin intended to speak my native tongue, I would do the same._

_Alduin grinned sadistically. "_So now you know that the Dov are not easily killed, Dovahkiin,_" he said, "_Of course, I had hoped Mirmulnir would have killed you. It would save me the effort._"_

_I tightened my grip on my sword. The burning sensation I had felt before I Shouted for the first time was returning and I did not know how to contain it without resorting to this new power._

_"_So since your servant is now dead, why don't you just come after me yourself?_" I asked. I didn't want him to, but I still needed some kind of release for this power that was building inside me and giving me the burning sensation. Bold challenges seemed to work almost as well as Shouting._

_"_You are not worth my time, Dovahkiin,_" Alduin said, "_You do not know how to utilize the power of the Thu'um and you barely even know what you are. I doubt your victory against Mirmulnir was the result of anything but luck._"_

_I looked down. Everything he said was true. I only managed to kill Mirmulnir because the Companions showed up in time to provide reinforcements and because I was reckless enough to take some drastic actions. One of those actions just happened to lead to me finding out that his wings were also his weak points._

_As for Alduin's other comments…I did not know what the Thu'um was, but based on what the guard said about dragons and Shouting after Mirmulnir's death, I could assume it was connected to Shouts, which the guard claimed were the dragons' way of harnessing their powers. And since the only Shout I knew how to use what the word "Fus," I doubted that was enough for me to claim Alduin was wrong. After all, I could not breathe fire like he and Mirmulnir could, despite how much I wished otherwise. And I really knew nothing about my apparent status as Dragonborn—or "Dovahkiin" as Alduin still insisted on calling me._

_But even so, I forced myself to look at Alduin again. I would not allow him to see weakness or self-doubt, especially when the strange burning feeling I had was making me feel incredibly bold._

_"_Then I will get stronger,_" I said, "_I will learn how to Shout and protect myself against any dragon you send to kill me. Then you will have no choice but to face me yourself!_"_

_"_We shall see,_" Alduin said before taking flight as he always did._

...

After that, I woke to a distant dragon's roar and immediately jolted upright, grabbing my sword in the process. I quickly looked for the source and predictably found a dragon flying in the distance, hunting most likely. It was far away, so I couldn't see much, but I was almost certain that it was a black dragon. No. I was almost certain it was Alduin.

That was a disturbing thought. Was he following me or was it just a coincidence? And if it was the latter, would Alduin attack me if he realized I was here? I barely managed to stand my ground against Mirmulnir and that was with Ililreth, three Companions, and fifteen guards fighting with me (although the guards had been reduced to four in number by the time I managed to kill Mirmulnir).

I watched the dragon until he was out of sight and by then, my heart was pounding. I had been convinced that he was going to attack until he left. Lydia stood beside me with her bow loaded since she had also been waiting for the dragon to leave. When the dragon was finally gone, Lydia relaxed her guard and mounted her bow on her back. She then glanced at me, but I barely noticed. I was still staring in the direction where I saw the dragon that I was certain had been Alduin.

"The dragon is gone," Lydia stated, "It's not going to attack us."

"I know," I said and desperately tried to recompose myself.

I must have done a poor job because Lydia gave me a concerned look.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"I'm fine," I said, but my heart was still pounding.

Lydia sighed. "If you want to convince me that is true, you should do a better job concealing your emotions."

I cursed in Elvish under my breath. Aela and Vilkas used to constantly tell me how easy it was to determine my emotional state. Onmund and J'zargo had occasionally told me the same thing and they were all right. Despite my attempts to prove otherwise, my face or movements constantly betrayed how I felt. I had hoped my time in Cyrodiil would have helped me get better at hiding my emotions, but apparently it didn't.

"I…I had…an unpleasant dream about a black dragon," I said. It wasn't a complete lie, but it was vague enough to allow me to keep the actual dream private, "And I suppose waking up and seeing a dragon flying in the distance put me on edge."

"I see," Lydia said, but somehow I doubted my answer satisfied her. But at the same time, Lydia's obvious desire to maintain a strictly professional relationship kept her from prying further. Interestingly enough, I was actually grateful for this when yesterday it was the thing I hated the most about her.

After I had a minute to get over my initial fright and properly compose myself, Lydia and I silently packed up the bedrolls and had a quick breakfast, consisting primarily of bread. Then we took off, still heading towards Ivarstead as planned.

* * *

Three days passed without incident. Lydia and I stayed on the main road during the day and usually made camp within an hour after dark. I still saw Alduin in my dreams, but the usual pattern had resumed. Alduin would land in front of me and once again speak his own language, only switching to Elvish to insult me for my ignorance. The only difference was that the burning fields were replaced with the ruins of the unknown dragon city, which almost made me feel like Alduin was trying to show me something (although that concept was laughable at best. Why would someone who wants me dead try to show me anything important?). And to my relief, I had not seen Alduin outside of my dreams again, which convinced me that it had been just a coincidence. If it weren't, I would have seen him again by now.

But on the fourth day, we were unlucky.

Lydia and I had just finished packing up our bedrolls when we heard approaching footsteps. By instinct, we quickly stood and drew our swords, only to find ourselves surrounded by bandits. I didn't know how many there were, but unlike the last time I fought a party of bandits, these ones approached from every direction and quickly closed in on us.

Then to make things worse, all of them had their weapons drawn and the bandits strategically positioned themselves so that Lydia and I would not have enough room to swing our swords. If we tried anyways, the odds of being able to fend off every bandit facing us was slim. And fire was out of the question unless I wanted to risk burning myself.

One of the bandits—who I had no doubt was their chief—looked at me and placed his axe under my chin to prop up my head (Talos knows how he, a Nord male, ended up being taller than me, even if he barely surpassed my height). I glared down at him and growled, but the bandit chief only laughed.

"I did not expect such boldness from a captive Elf," he said, "Your kind is usually all talk, but lacks the power to back it without your precious magicka."

"I am not your captive," I said.

"But you are," the bandit chief said and then he glanced at Lydia, "Along with your Nord companion."

Another bandit, who was standing in front of Lydia, leaned towards her. "What are you doing with this Elf anyways?" he asked, "No self-respecting Nord would voluntarily travel with a Thalmor."

"I'm not—" I started, only to be cut off.

"She's not one of them," a female bandit standing to the right of their chief said before pointing her sword at my Amulet of Talos, "If she were, I doubt she would be wearing such an obvious mark of a heretic."

The bandit chief grinned. "So we've caught an Elf that actually worships Talos. How interesting," he said before turning to the rest of the bandits and giving an order, "Tie them up and bring them back to camp!"

* * *

It didn't take long for the bandits to strip us of our swords (along with Lydia's bow and arrows. I'm not sure if they took the ebony dagger I hid in my belt since it all happened so fast) and bind out wrists behind our backs. While we were able to put up a small fight, the bandits effortlessly overpowered us with their sheer numbers, leaving us helpless to resist the binding process. They even made sure my hands were clasped together so I could not properly use magic. Then we were dragged back to the bandits' camp and shoved against a nearby boulder. Our feet were tied up once the bandits had us seated and we were forced to watch them dig through our bags and toss the contents everywhere.

After only a couple minutes, Lydia turned to me.

"We have to get out of here," she said.

"I know, but I can't use magic like this," I said, "Otherwise I would have burned the rope off by now."

"Hey! Quiet you two!" a nearby bandit shouted.

Lydia and I briefly fell silent and when we resumed speaking, we were careful to keep our voices at a whisper.

"Burning the ropes would be foolish anyways," Lydia said, "You would only burn yourself in the process."

"Then what is your brilliant escape plan?" I sarcastically asked.

Lydia hesitated before saying, "I…I don't have one."

"I knew it," I said.

"Oh shut up," Lydia said, "Now is not the time for petty arguments."

"I know," I said, "And I apologize for that, but I really don't know how to get out of this situation."

"I'm sure we'll think of something," Lydia said, "Escaping a party of bandits should be easy for someone who fought a dragon and lived."

I did not know if that was intended as a compliment or a means of mocking me or both, but now was not the time to question Lydia or try to start another pointless argument. I needed to focus on figuring out a means of escape, but strategy was never my area of expertise. Fighting on impulse and burning things was (of course, there would be a time for that later—assuming we escaped).

I leaned back against the boulder with my eyes closed and whispered a prayer to Talos and Auri-El, hoping to find a way to get out of this situation and back on the path to Ivarstead and later High Hrothgar.


	8. Chapter 8: A Chance to Escape

**Dovahkiin Fahliil (Elven Dragonborn)**

**Part 1**

**Chapter 8: A Chance to Escape**

* * *

**Synopsis:**

Lina is an Altmer Warrior Mage and a traitor in the eyes of the Thalmor. After evading them for three years, she is finally caught and sent to Helgen to be executed, but her death sentence is interrupted by the return of the dragons, and more specifically, the World Eater himself. Lina escapes Helgen alive, only be dragged into new dangers and to discover a great secret: She is Dovahkiin and the only one with the power to stop Alduin from causing Nirn's destruction.

Her journey takes place over the course of several years, consisting of a battle against Alduin, Lina's reluctant decision to fight in the Civil War, and learning about a strange connection between her and the World Eater allowing them to see each other in dreams, while at the same time, trying to master her newly discovered powers.

The fanfiction itself is divided into four parts:

**Part 1:**

Lina travels throughout Skyrim searching for Words of Power and ways to get stronger while learning what it means to be Dovahkiin and prepare for the inevitable battle with Alduin. But at the same time, she starts experiencing reoccurring dreams about the World Eater after the events of Helgen. Then to make things worse, there is increasing turmoil in the Guilds Lina is a member of: the College of Winterhold and the Companions.

Part 1 is heavily based on the Main Quest and the Guild Quests.

...

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own the Elder Scrolls franchise, Skyrim, or any of its characters. The only character I own is Lina

...

_A/N: I feel like this in another weak chapter, but I did have some fun writing the dialogue for one of the bandits about "Elven Witchcraft" along with the action sequences. And I have Aroswing on Deviantart to thank for the ending of the bandit conflict. It was his idea and I ran with it, which I think might have helped improve this chapter a little._

_And I ended up making an "arrow to the knee" joke during this chapter. I apologize for nothing._

* * *

At least an hour passed and we were still tied up and without an escape plan. All I could do right now was watch the bandits walk around their camp while some took off, presumably to look for more travellers to ambush, and others started sparring with their weapons. For a moment, watching the bandits spar reminded me of the Companions…if we were nothing but filthy thieves who tied up travellers and took their belongings.

Sometime later, one of the bandits must have remembered we were here because he approached Lydia and me with a waterskin and offered it to us. Neither of us drank from it at first, but eventually thirst won over pride and we reluctantly took sips from it. When the bandit was convinced that we were satisfied, he walked away while I leaned against the boulder at our backs. But to my surprise, I heard a slight scrapping sound. Strange. My armor was leather and the cloak I was wearing was made of soft material. Could that mean…my dagger!

I thought the bandits might have taken it when they tied us up, but apparently, they were actually fools who did not know how to properly search someone for weapons. Granted, by dagger was well-covered, but it wasn't completely hidden either. But it didn't matter. What did was that now we had a means of escaping. I just had to reach for the dagger…or have Lydia do it for me.

"Lydia," I said, keeping my voice at a whisper.

"What?" she whispered back.

"The bandits forgot to take my dagger," I said, "It's hidden in my belt. Think you can get it?"

"Most likely," Lydia said, "They left my hands unclasped, probably because they assumed I cannot use magic."

"And can you?" I asked out of curiosity.

"Of course not," Lydia said, "You should know that my kind is not as skilled at magic as yours. Now turn so your back is facing me and allow me to try to reach your dagger."

I only nodded and the two of us struggled to position ourselves back-to-back. The process unsurprisingly consisted mostly of awkward movements and constant banging into each other. The only good news was that none of the bandits were currently close enough to see what we were doing, which gave us plenty of time to finish shifting around without making a scene.

Lydia roughly shoved against my cloak in an obvious attempt to move it out of the way, though she failed to do much. But once the cloak had been moved enough, Lydia started awkwardly feeling around my belt for anything that even vaguely resembled a dagger.

"It's near the pouch," I whispered.

Lydia made a sound of acknowledgement and continued feeling around. Then I felt her grab the pouch and she leaned forward slightly, most likely to raise her hands.

"I've…almost…got it," Lydia said, right before I heard the sound of a dagger being unsheathed.

"Hurry and cut the ropes," I whispered, "Before the bandits come back."

But it was too late for that.

I heard footsteps and turned towards the source, only to see one of the bandits approaching. At first, he looked somewhat confused. Maybe he was wondering why Lydia and I now had our backs to each other, but it didn't take long for him to come to his senses and realize that we were trying to escape.

"What do you two think you're doing?" he asked as he reached for his sword and approached us.

I panicked when I felt him getting dangerously close, especially since his sword was now fully drawn and pointed directly at me. Without realizing what I was doing until it was too late, I opened my mouth to unleash a single word.

"FUS!"

The bandit was knocked back by the power of the Shout and I just stared in his direction. I had not intended to use this new power in front of the bandits. Instead, I had done it by instinct as a desperate attempt to keep the armed bandit away. And because of it, both the bandit and Lydia were staring at me.

"What kind of magic was that?" the bandit asked, clearly too astonished to do anything else.

"Did you just…Shout?" Lydia asked.

"Yes," I told her, "But focus on the task at hand."

"I don't think so," the bandit growled before advancing and grabbing my throat. Surprisingly, he kept his grip loose enough that I could still breathe without effort, but at the same time, tight enough to keep me still and give me a reason to fear possible suffocation.

"What kind of Elven Witchcraft did you just perform?" the bandit asked.

I remained silent and only narrowed my eyes at him, but the bandit tightened his grip slightly, though still not to the point of suffocation.

"I asked you a question, Elf," the bandit said, glaring at me.

"_Go burn in the foulest plains of Oblivion_," I snarled in Elvish.

The bandit's grip again became tighter and now breathing was becoming difficult. "In the Common Tongue, Elf," he said in a low voice, "Tell me what kind of Elven Witchcraft you just performed."

My gaze briefly shifted to Lydia who was shifting around, most likely struggling with the dagger. I realized that I would have to buy her some time and the only thing I could think of to do that was to answer the bandit's questions.

"Not…witchcraft," I managed to get out.

"Liar," the bandit growled and tightened his grip again. I started gasping for air and realized just how difficult breathing had become, "You 'Superiorly Bred Mer' are always gloating about how you're the best spellcasters in all of Tamriel, so it must have been your witchcraft."

"Not…witchcraft," I repeated, although speaking was far more difficult this time, "Not even…Elven…magic."

"Then what do you want me to believe it was?" the bandit asked.

"Shout…magic…used…by…dragons," I said, as my voice grew weaker.

"Dragon magic?" the bandit repeated and then scoffed, "What, do you think you're one of those Tongues the bards sometimes sing about?"

I did not know what he meant, so even if I wasn't struggling to breathe, I would have remained silent. But the bandit kept talking.

"An Elf being trained to use the powers of a dragon. That is something that will never happen. Only proud Nord Warriors deserve those abilities," the bandit said, "And you High Elves are the least deserving of dragon magic."

I only growled at him. Or rather I tried to, but realized I couldn't make a sound. And to make things worse, my vision was starting to blur as it became almost impossible for me to breathe. I knew I wouldn't last too much longer if the bandit didn't release his grip soon.

The bandit continued to ramble about how Nords were the true superior race of Tamriel instead of Altmer and about how the Thalmor were fools to think otherwise, but his voice was starting to sound distant.

Then he just stopped talking.

It took me a second to realize that Lydia's hands were now free and that she had stabbed the bandit in the side. The bandit quickly released his grip on me and turned his attention to Lydia. I was desperately gasping for air and waiting for my vision to come back into focus, but I did see Lydia slash at the bandit a few more times before he fell to the ground.

While I tried to get more air, Lydia cut the ropes binding her ankles and then the ropes binding me. Once she was done, Lydia knelt beside me.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

I couldn't bring myself to speak, so I answered with a nod.

"You can heal yourself, correct?"

I nodded again and raised my left hand to channel magicka into a healing spell. The warm light engulfed me as usual before making any bruising from the attempted suffocation fade. I sustained the spell for as long as I deemed it necessary, but when the light faded, my throat still felt sensitive and I doubted my ability to speak and especially my ability to Shout. I would have to only speak if necessary and refrain from Shouting entirely unless it was completely unavoidable until the pain ceased.

I turned to Lydia who was looking around the camp while straining herself slightly as if she was listening for something.

"Our weapons are over there," she said, pointing in the general direction, "I'll retrieve them, but I think the bandits are coming back. Think you can keep them busy?"

I only nodded and conjured a firebolt. A decoy was easy enough; all I had to do was burn the fields and anyone that got too close to me. But then, to my surprise, Lydia started to hand me the ebony dagger.

"No. Keep it," I said, trying not to cringe when I realized my voice was hoarse, "You need a weapon more than I do right now."

Lydia looked like she was thinking about protesting, but must have quickly realized that I was right and decided against it. After all, I was a mage and she wasn't. I could use magic to fight if I was unarmed, but Lydia would be far more defenseless and my dagger was better than nothing.

Then both of us heard the sound of several people running—certainly the bandits—and Lydia took off, but she didn't get far before some of the bandits surrounded us. Fortunately, this time there were only four members of the party instead of all of them. The others must not have returned yet.

Two of the bandits charged at Lydia while the other two ran at me. I immediately threw the firebolt I had conjured at the closest bandit, but he jumped out of the way. I growled in annoyance, but conjured two more firebolts and threw them at the bandit. He evaded the first one with minimal effort, but lost his footing and was unable to evade the second one in time. The firebolt struck is arm, which was soon covered in flames. The bandit screamed from the pain and flailed around as the fire travelled across his arm and to the rest of his body. Meanwhile, Lydia evaded strikes from the two bandits that went after her and countered with repeated stabs wherever she could find an opening.

However, the second bandit managed to get close enough to strike at me. He swung his sword in a downward slash and I instinctively raised my left arm to block. The sword struck the leather bracer protecting my forearm, but the bandit easily applied more pressure and I could feel the blade cut through the leather and bite my skin. I resisted the urge to cry out from the pain, especially when blood started to run down my arm.

I didn't hesitate to conjure more fire with my free hand, which I sent directly to the bandit's face. He barely had time to react before the flames burned his flesh while I quickly pulled away from his sword and jumped back to avoid getting burned myself.

The bandit flailed around before the fire overwhelmed him and he fell to the ground, now a charred corpse. I quickly surveyed the area while casting a healing spell on my still bleeding arm. Lydia had unsurprisingly killed the two bandits that attacked her and was now going through a mess of supplies, certainly trying to locate our swords along with her shield and bow.

But then I heard shouting and saw more bandits charging with their weapons drawn. I suppose the raiding party has finally returned. Remembering that I was supposed to keep them occupied, I conjured a fireball in each hand and charged.

* * *

When it was over, the fields were on fire and I was bent over, panting from magicka overuse. Usually fire spells did not leave me so drained, but I had savagely attacked the bandits and created firewalls that burned the fields to close them in without pausing longer than absolutely necessary between each spell.

And there were just so many of them. This must have been most of the raiding party. Thankfully, I managed to keep the bandits who carried melee weapons from getting close enough to strike me, but the archers had been a problem as usual. Several arrows had grazed my arms and shoulders while two more grazed my cheek and another arrow almost hit me in the knee (Talos knows why a bandit would aim there). And because I was too tired from the constant fire spells to heal myself, blood ran down my arms and the side of my face. But at least the masses focusing on me meant that they had not gone after Lydia.

But then I heard the sound of steel clashing and I knew in that instant that at least one of the bandits chose to target Lydia instead of me. I quickly turned around, only to see Lydia facing the bandit chief himself. For some reason the bandit chief had chosen to use a sword, even though his axe was mounted on his back, but Lydia had reclaimed both her sword and shield.

To tired to go to Lydia's aid, I could only watch as she and the bandit chief exchanged blows. The bandit chief slashed at Lydia's torso, only for her to block with her sword and bash him with her shield, causing the bandit chief to stagger backwards. But he recovered quickly and slashed at Lydia again. She parried and counterattacked with a stab towards his chest, only for the bandit chief to beat her sword to the side.

They continued exchanging blows until Lydia managed to disarm the bandit chief. He narrowed his eyes at her and gave an annoyed growl, but wasted no time grabbing his axe as savagely slashing at Lydia, forcing her to take several steps back. But the fight ended when Lydia caught the axe with her shield and made a swift stab towards a weak point in the bandit chief's armor just below his chest.

The bandit chief stood for perhaps a couple seconds before he finally fell to the ground, dead. Lydia gazed at the slain bandit for a short period of time before turning around to face me. Her expression was surprisingly calm, but at the same time fierce.

"Have I impressed you with my skills?" she asked.

My gaze briefly shifted to the ground where I could see several dead bandits in addition to their slain chief. They must have returned sometime after the majority of their party and thought it would be wise to go after Lydia instead of me, not that I could blame them. A lone swordfighter looking for a weapon would look like an easier target than a savage pyro burning everything in sight.

I only nodded to answer her question.

Lydia bent down and picked up a steel sword, which she handed to me along with the ebony dagger. "I believe these belongs to you," she said.

I sheathed the dagger and strapped the sword to my belt. "Thank you," I said, though my voice was still hoarse.

Once I finished securing my weapons, Lydia and I found our bags and filled them with any of our belongings that we could find along with anything useful we found in the camp, which consisted mostly of septims and healing potions (Lydia insisted that I drank one of the potions after seeing how bloody my arms were). But just as we finished collecting everything, we heard the sound of someone frantically running and immediately turned to the source.

To our surprise, a bandit woman was running towards us and I recognized her as the one that told the chief I was a heretic. Out of instinct, Lydia and I drew our swords, but to our surprise, the bandit woman did not draw her own sword. In fact, she froze the instant she saw us with our weapons drawn and raised her arms submissively.

"Please…lower your weapons," she said, "I don't want to fight you."

I scowled. "Why should I believe you?" I asked and took a step forward.

The bandit woman took several steps back and I could see a terrified look in her eyes.

"Lina, stand down," Lydia commanded as she sheathed her sword and walked towards the bandit woman. I refused to sheathe my own sword, but I did lower it while I watched Lydia and the bandit.

"I'm surprised you are unwilling to fight us," Lydia told the bandit, "The others attacked the instant they realized we were free."

"I'm not foolish enough to face two warriors that eliminated my entire party," the bandit woman said, "It would be suicide."

"Smart woman," Lydia said, "But there is still the matter of your crimes. You might not have engaged in battle against us, but you are still a member of the party responsible for our capture."

"Please. Have mercy," the bandit woman begged. She looked even more terrified now and I almost expected her to go on her knees and continue pleading for her life, "I never wanted any of this."

I didn't falter, but her words made Lydia curious.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I…I was not always a bandit," the woman said, "But I was just desperate for money…and the chief…he is—I mean was—my brother. He invited me to join the party and promised me plenty of septims."

Tears formed in her eyes and I actually started to feel sorry for her. I hated thieves and bandits, but I was not foolish enough to believe all of them were in that line of work by choice. I knew there were people like this woman who turned to a life of crime out of desperation. Of course, there was still a chance she was lying just to earn sympathy, but I was starting to doubt that. Her story and the tears that followed actually felt genuine.

Lydia must have taken pity on the bandit woman as well because she ordered me to sheathe my sword, which I reluctantly did, and took a few steps closer to her.

"For now, we will spare you," Lydia said, "But if we find you with another bandit party or ambushing travellers on your own, we will not be so merciful."

"I…I understand," the bandit woman said, looking down.

"I would suggest going to Whiterun if you are in need of septims," Lydia said, "Find a job at the tavern or join the Companions; the latter of which will gladly take any skilled fighters."

"But if you do choose to join the Companions, you should know that we don't like thieves," I added, narrowing my eyes.

"I will remember that," the bandit woman said before addressing Lydia, "And you have my thanks."

And with that, she gathered a few things from the camp and left, more than likely with the intention of taking Lydia's advice and going to Whiterun. When she was out of sight, Lydia and I found our way back to the main road and continued travelling towards Ivarstead.

* * *

We arrived at the village a couple days later, but we didn't even walk past the guards before I realized that coming to Ivarstead had been a mistake. The village was filled with members of the one faction I wanted to see stranded and burned in the most savage plains of Oblivion.

And that faction was the Thalmor.


	9. Chapter 9: Unwanted Family Reunion

**Dovahkiin Fahliil (Elven Dragonborn)**

**Part 1**

**Chapter 9: Unwanted Family Reunion**

* * *

**Synopsis:**

Lina is an Altmer Warrior Mage and a traitor in the eyes of the Thalmor. After evading them for three years, she is finally caught and sent to Helgen to be executed, but her death sentence is interrupted by the return of the dragons, and more specifically, the World Eater himself. Lina escapes Helgen alive, only be dragged into new dangers and to discover a great secret: She is Dovahkiin and the only one with the power to stop Alduin from causing Nirn's destruction.

Her journey takes place over the course of several years, consisting of a battle against Alduin, Lina's reluctant decision to fight in the Civil War, and learning about a strange connection between her and the World Eater allowing them to see each other in dreams, while at the same time, trying to master her newly discovered powers.

The fanfiction itself is divided into four parts:

**Part 1:**

Lina travels throughout Skyrim searching for Words of Power and ways to get stronger while learning what it means to be Dovahkiin and prepare for the inevitable battle with Alduin. But at the same time, she starts experiencing reoccurring dreams about the World Eater after the events of Helgen. Then to make things worse, there is increasing turmoil in the Guilds Lina is a member of: the College of Winterhold and the Companions.

Part 1 is heavily based on the Main Quest and the Guild Quests.

...

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own the Elder Scrolls franchise, Skyrim, or any of its characters. The only characters I own are Lina and Nalcarum.

...

_A/N: I have to admit, this chapter did not come out as good as I was hoping it would, but I introduced a new oc who will be serving as a reoccurring antagonist at the suggestion of Aroswing on Deviantart, who thought I should include more ocs than just Lina._

_Like before, all dialogue written in italics is meant to be Lina or other characters speaking Elvish. And constructive criticism is still appreciated._

* * *

"We have to turn around," I insisted.

"Why?" Lydia asked, clearly oblivious to the problem.

"Because the village is crawling with Thalmor!" I cried.

"And why should that concern you?" Lydia asked, "You're an Altmer—practically one of them. If you cover your amulet, the Thalmor will almost certainly look at you with some degree of respect."

"No they won't," I said and pulled Lydia far from the main road to make sure as few people as possible overheard what I would say next, "I'm an enemy of the Aldmeri Dominion."

Lydia's eyes widened slightly before her face hardened into a cold stare. "Explain yourself," she commanded.

I sighed, knowing that I didn't have a choice, and told Lydia everything about my crimes against the Thalmor and the three years I spent evading them. Like the Companions, Lydia could not believe I was reckless enough to do things like try to burn down the Thalmor Embassy, but unlike them, Lydia did not show any signs of amusement. She instead remained stoic until I was done speaking. And then her mask fell.

"I cannot believe Jarl Balgruuf would send me to accompany a wanted criminal!" she cried, doing nothing to conceal her fury.

"He did not know and I had no desire to tell him!" I shouted.

"Because by law, you should be turned over to the Thalmor and put to death!" Lydia shouted.

"So I suppose you plan to have me arrested," I said, reaching for my sword.

"Don't be a fool," Lydia said, "The law might say you should be turned in, but if you are truly Dragonborn—and after seeing you Shout, I have a reason to believe you are—you need to be brought to High Hrothgar. Besides, I have been ordered to keep you safe, not get you executed."

I gave Lydia a look that must have betrayed my confusion at her reaction. After all, I expected her to react as a guard would (or anyone that was not one of the Companions or a College Apprentice). That is, immediately put me in chains and hand me over to the Thalmor. Or at the very least try to and start a bloody swordfight because I refused to surrender without a fight.

"Surprised?" Lydia asked.

"Well…yes," I said.

"I have no love of the Thalmor," Lydia said, "Or any intentions of aiding them."

"But you just said—"

"What was required by law," Lydia finished, "Not whether I plan to obey."

"Then will you turn around with me?" I asked.

"I never said that," Lydia said, "We still need directions, which is why you initially suggested coming to Ivarstead."

"But what about the Thalmor?" I asked, "If we're caught you will be arrested and likely put to death as well."

"Then that is a risk I will take," Lydia said, "I have my orders and I intend to obey."

Somehow I doubted I would be able to convince her to turn around or leave me to my own devices with the Thalmor, even though the last thing I wanted was to have another person's death on my hands from the Thalmor catching us. But apparently, Lydia was not concerned about her possible death—or at the very least, she was good at covering any fear she might have felt.

She was brave, I had to give her that.

"So be it," I said as I put on my hood, which I pulled on until my tattoo was covered, and hid my Amulet of Talos under my armor, "But you will have to do the talking."

"Very well," Lydia said, "Just directions to High Hrothgar, correct?"

I nodded. "And one more thing: If anyone asks who I am, tell them that I am a mercenary who came here from Cyrodiil and that you don't know my name."

"Alright," Lydia said.

And with that, we finally walked into the village.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, we were stopped by one of the Thalmor Justiciars before we even reached the tavern.

He immediately drew his sword and pointed it at us. "State your business."

"We are travellers looking for the fastest route to High Hrothgar," Lydia said.

"And why would either of you be interested in the old Nords' monastery?" the Thalmor asked.

"I was sent here by my Jarl to deliver an urgent message regarding the dragons' return to the Greybeards," Lydia lied, "He feared that a courier might get intercepted before he could reach the mountain."

The Thalmor looked like he was trying to determine if Lydia was telling the truth or not when his gaze shifted to me.

"And what about her?" he asked, "I don't see any reason for a member of my own kind to go with you."

"She's a mercenary that my Jarl hired to accompany me," Lydia said, "And good thing he did. We ran into some bandits a few days ago and I would not have been able to fight them off alone."

The Thalmor continued to look at us suspiciously, but he did lower his sword and allowed us to walk past him. Although he did whisper to me, "You do know mercenary work is hardly suitable for our kind, right?"

I had to bite my lip to stop myself from retorting and only gave him a weak nod before following Lydia into the tavern.

Like the rest of the village, the tavern was crowded with Thalmor, so I immediately went to an empty table near the back of the room while Lydia approached the bartender with the intention of asking for directions (and likely fresh food and water). While I waited for her, I started pulling on my hood to try to make it cover more of my head in some attempt to make sure I went unnoticed. Fortunately, no one paid any attention to me. The Thalmor were currently ignorant of my identity while the Nordic villagers seemed uninterested in a lone Altmer.

...

Lydia returned to the table perhaps a couple minutes later, carrying a tray with tankards filled with water and bowls of potato soup. She sat across from me and offered me one of the bowls, which I gratefully accepted. While I ate, I decided to ask Lydia if she had gotten directions to High Hrothgar.

"Did the bartender have the information we need?" I asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Aye," Lydia said, "There is actually a path leading from this village to High Hrothgar, which the bartender referred to as the 7,000 Steps. Apparently, we are not the first people to come here with the intention of travelling to the monastery."

"Then we should leave at once," I said.

"No. Tomorrow," Lydia insisted, "It's already after sundown and the bartender said there might be bears or frost trolls on the mountain, which I would rather face during the day."

"But we cannot stay here," I argued, "The Thalmor—"

"Still do not know you are here," Lydia finished, "I will get us a room for the night and we will leave early tomorrow morning before the Thalmor find out who we are."

I wanted to protest, but Lydia quickly got up and walked back to the bartender to ask about available rooms. I quickly stood and followed Lydia with the intention of stopping her, but a Thalmor woman chose that exact moment to step out of her room and into the dining area, blocking my path.

And then to make things worse, she looked directly at me and our eyes locked. She had taken off her hood, so I could see that her hair was black like mine, though it was better kept. But her eyes were a vibrant blue-green instead of bright orange, which was my eye color, and she didn't have any visible tattoos or scars. And I knew who she was. Her name was Nalcarum and she joined the Thalmor the same year I was branded as a traitor.

And to my misfortune, she knew who I was as well.

"_There aren't too many Altmer with black hair_," Nalcarum stated in Elvish as she took a step closer to me. Then, before I could react, she grabbed my hood and pulled it off, "_Such an obvious giveaway, Lina._"

There were two other Thalmor Justiciars in hearing range (likely members of Nalcarum's patrol) and both of them immediately turned in our direction when they heard my name, drawing their swords and conjuring lightning in the process. I reached for my own sword, but Nalcarum grabbed my wrist.

"_Don't do anything you'll regret_," she warned.

"_Like letting you live?_" I asked.

"_Lina, is that any way to talk to a family member?_" Nalcarum asked.

"_It is when you came here for the bounty on my head!_" I cried, "_Especially in the robes of a Thalmor!_"

Nalcarum's eyes widened, but she must have known my words were sincere and not just the result of built-up anger. It's true that Nalcarum and I are related (cousins actually) and we actually got along rather well when we were children, though Nalcarum was three years older than me. But about a year before I left the Summerset Isles, we started to grow apart. Our beliefs and ambitions were becoming too different; I wanted to see more of Tamriel and get away from the High Elven society while Nalcarum felt that her loyalties were with the Aldmeri Dominion.

I never expected her to join the Thalmor though—until I saw her wearing their robes three years ago after I was already branded as a traitor. I still remember feeling the sting of betrayal when I saw her—a blood relative—dressed as the thing I hated the most.

On that day, I had warned Nalcarum that I would not hold back in a fight because of our shared bloodline if she came after me and if necessary, I would kill her. She had taken it as an empty threat at the time, but now she knew better. She knew that to me, anyone who wore Thalmor robes was an enemy that often needed to be killed.

It took Nalcarum a moment to compose herself, but once she did, she immediately grabbed my arm and shoved me into her room, telling the other two Thalmor that she wanted to settle things privately. I could tell that they wanted to protest, especially since I just threatened to kill Nalcarum, but no one stopped her. Not even Lydia, who had come back the instant she realized I had been discovered, but the two other Thalmor Justiciars were restraining her, so I assumed Lydia did want to come after us.

Once we were both in the room, Nalcarum locked the door, probably to keep others from barging in. She must have known that a wooden door would not keep me from escaping if this ended poorly, even if I did have to burn down the tavern.

I did not hesitate to draw my sword and point it at Nalcarum. "_Did you think locking me in this room would keep me from making a scene?_" I asked.

"_Of course not_," Nalcarum said, "_I know you better than that_."

"_Then what? Are you planning to arrest me?_" I asked.

"_You know I don't have a choice_," Nalcarum said as she withdrew a set of metal shackles, "_After all, it is my duty to arrest traitors and heretics and you are both_."

"_And you should know that I will not come quietly_," I said as I moved into an offensive stance.

"_I would expect nothing less from someone like you_," Nalcarum said, conjuring a lightning bolt with her free hand.

I did not give her the opportunity to strike first and immediately charged at Nalcarum, swinging my sword. She jumped back and onto the bed, likely trying to get the high ground advantage, before throwing her lightning bolt at me. I jumped to the side and went into a shoulder-roll, causing the lightning bolt to strike and knock over a chair.

Nalcarum tried to throw another lightning bolt at me, but by then I was already standing and was able to move out of the way. I then conjured a firebolt and threw it at her, but Nalcarum blocked with a ward. But then I had an opening to lunge at her, except I swung my sword downwards towards the bed, using enough force to successfully break it (and I must have hit one of the weaker points as well). Nalcarum was thrown off balance and fell backwards, landing ungracefully on her back.

I raised my sword to finish her, but Nalcarum quickly raised one hand and a blast of ice shot forward, striking me. I tried not to cry out as the cold sensation travelled through my body and rendered my limbs immobile. I cursed in Elvish because I always managed to forget that Nalcarum was more than competent with frost spells until it was too late and now that mistake could prove to be fatal.

All I could do was watch as she got up and approached me.

"_I'm sorry, but you left me no choice_," Nalcarum said as she got closer.

I'm sure I would have thought of something to say if I wasn't enduring the effects of a frost spell, which I desperately hoped would wear off soon. I needed to move—to get out of this room, find Lydia, and get out of here alive. But unfortunately, the icy sensation did not show any signs of fading and Nalcarum was only getting closer with the metal shackles still in her hand. Desperate, I did the only thing I could think of.

I Shouted.

"FUS!"

Like everyone else I had used this new power on, Nalcarum was blown back and then she stared at me, completely astonished.

"_What did you just do to me?_" she asked.

"_I-I S-Shouted…or used a p-power m-meant for…dragons_," I said, stammering because of that frost spell and the lingering cold sensation.

Nalcarum gave me a strange look. "_And where would an Altmer learn such a thing?_"

"_N-None of y-your c-concern!_" I shouted.

"_No need to be hostile, Lina_," Nalcarum said, "_I'm just curious_."

I did not want to tell her anything, but I knew my cousin could be incredibly persistent when she wanted to know something, possibly to the point where she might delay putting me in shackles until she was satisfied. And I was still unable to move until that Oblivion-forsaken frost spell wore off, so I would need to keep her occupied until I could fight again. Telling Nalcarum about everything that happened recently was my best option.

Of course, there were things I left out, such as the wall with the glowing letters and the reoccurring dreams. But I told her about the dragon attack in Helgen, battling Mirmulnir, taking his soul, and convincing the guards that I might be Dragonborn, which led to Jarl Balgruuf sending me to seek answers from the Greybeards.

The entire time, Nalcarum listened with an almost permanent skeptical look. Like me, she had been unfamiliar with the concept of a Dragonborn or the mythology surrounding one, so it hardly surprised me that she would react in such a manner.

"_I'm sorry, but can you really expect me to believe any of that?_" Nalcarum asked, "_I cannot deny that the dragons have returned—lately we have been seeing one or two flying over the mountains—but you as some elite dragonslayer of Nordic legend? I find that unlikely_."

"_Why would I lie about something like this?_" I asked. By now the effects of the frost spell had worn off and I could move again.

"_Too avoid arrest?_" Nalcarum suggested.

"_Don't be a fool_," I said, "_I can resort to violence for that, which I already have and would have again by now if I was fabricating my story to keep you occupied. Everything I told you is true. I swear it upon Auri-El's name!_"

"_You still make vows in Auri-El's name I see_," Nalcarum stated.

"_And you should know how sacred those vows are to me_," I said.

"_Yes—Unbreakable unless you are slain before they can be fulfilled or nothing but the truth. I haven't forgotten_," Nalcarum said, "_But I cannot allow you to leave just because you make some vow you believe is sacred_."

"_Then shall we return to destroying the room?_" I asked, conjuring a firebolt.

"_You do know there are solutions that don't involve fire, right?_"

"_Such as surrender?_" I asked sarcastically.

"_Lina, please—_" Nalcarum started.

But I took a step closer and pointed my sword at her neck. "_I am not interested in your pleas. I only wish to reach the Greybeards alive and un-captured_," I said, "_You can either help me or resume fighting. Your choice._"

Nalcarum hesitated to speak. I doubt she imagined being put in a position where she was forced to choose between the Aldmeri Dominion and a blood-relative. And to be honest, I never thought there would be a day where I threatened my own cousin with a sword or fire. But here we were and Nalcarum had only seconds to make a decision.

Eventually, she spoke. "_Stay here_," Nalcarum said, "_I will speak to my superiors about this_."

Before I could say anything, Nalcarum swiftly walked to the door, unlocked it, and walked out before slamming the door in my face. I reached for the doorknob, only to hear Nalcarum locking it from the other side.

I could burn down the door with minimal effort, which Nalcarum must have known, and immediately conjured fire, but something made me hesitate. I suppose the rational part of my mind warned me to stay here and not cause trouble. If any Thalmor saw smoke, I would be attacked and likely killed. Fighting off a few of them was easy, but a village full of them? The odds were not in my favor. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed Nalcarum to convince the other Thalmor to let me leave the village before I could do anything.

But at the same time, I could not help but want to know what was going on, especially since I was ultimately allowing a Thalmor to determine my fate and I had to figure out if there was a time to resort to burning down the door. So I did the only thing I could think of that didn't involve fire, which was of course, eavesdropping. I pressed my ear against the door and listened for Nalcarum's voice.

It was difficult to detect her voice as there was a fair amount of noise, but I think I heard Nalcarum telling one of the Justiciars the same thing I had told her about Helgen, Mirmulnir, and my apparent status as Dragonborn. And I think I heard her ask to give me and my companion permission to go to High Hrothgar, but it sounded like the other Thalmor was not accepting anything she had said.

"_How could you suggest something like this?_" the other Thalmor was shouting, "_That traitor has been evading us for three years! We cannot release her now that she's finally trapped!_"

"_But…What if her story is true?_" Nalcarum asked.

"_Are you defending the traitor?_" the other Thalmor asked, "_Even if she is your cousin, such a thing will make you guilty of treason as well_."

"_Of course not!_" Nalcarum said quickly, "_But we cannot deny that the dragons have returned and if Lina's claims about being 'Dragonborn' are true, we might need her to eliminate the dragons_."

They continued arguing for some time and I was starting to consider burning down the door again when I heard the other Thalmor reluctantly agree to allow me to go to the Greybeards, even if it was just because Nalcarum pointed out that the 7,000 Steps were the only real path to High Hrothgar. In other words, the Thalmor knew I would be trapped on the mountain and if I tried to escape, that would be their chance to arrest me (and probably Lydia as well).

Then I heard the sound of someone unlocking the door and instinctively jumped back while drawing my sword. But I found Nalcarum and two other Thalmor Justiciars on the other side when the door opened. Nalcarum was trying to mask her emotions (which she was better at than I was) while her companions looked displeased, certainly because they wanted to see me executed at once rather than waiting.

"_We have decided to allow you and that Nord woman you were with to travel to High Hrothgar_," one of them said.

"_But we will escort you up the first flight of stairs to make sure you don't try to escape_," another Thalmor added.

I scowled at that condition. Even if it was just for a short period of time, I had no desire to be escorted anywhere by the Thalmor. But before I could protest, Lydia walked towards me, flanked by three more Thalmor Justiciars. All of them shared a look of irritation that gave me the impression any conversation they might have had in my absence did not end well.

And apparently Lydia already had the same conversation with the Thalmor and because she probably could not understand Elvish, she failed to realize that was what we were discussing and approached me.

"Lina, they said they'll let us go to High Hrothgar if we allow them to escort us part of the way," Lydia said, "I already told them we accepted their terms."

I suppose we really did not have any other option.

"So be it," I said reluctantly to both Lydia and the Thalmor.

* * *

Not long after that, we were dragged out of the tavern and brought to the 7,000 Steps. So much for waiting until morning to start our journey to the monastery.


	10. Chapter 10: 7,000 Steps to High Hrothgar

**Dovahkiin Fahliil (Elven Dragonborn)**

**Part 1**

**Chapter 10: 7,000 Steps to High Hrothgar**

* * *

**Synopsis:**

Lina is an Altmer Warrior Mage and a traitor in the eyes of the Thalmor. After evading them for three years, she is finally caught and sent to Helgen to be executed, but her death sentence is interrupted by the return of the dragons, and more specifically, the World Eater himself. Lina escapes Helgen alive, only be dragged into new dangers and to discover a great secret: She is Dovahkiin and the only one with the power to stop Alduin from causing Nirn's destruction.

Her journey takes place over the course of several years, consisting of a battle against Alduin, Lina's reluctant decision to fight in the Civil War, and learning about a strange connection between her and the World Eater allowing them to see each other in dreams, while at the same time, trying to master her newly discovered powers.

The fanfiction itself is divided into four parts:

**Part 1:**

Lina travels throughout Skyrim searching for Words of Power and ways to get stronger while learning what it means to be Dovahkiin and prepare for the inevitable battle with Alduin. But at the same time, she starts experiencing reoccurring dreams about the World Eater after the events of Helgen. Then to make things worse, there is increasing turmoil in the Guilds Lina is a member of: the College of Winterhold and the Companions.

Part 1 is heavily based on the Main Quest and the Guild Quests.

...

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own the Elder Scrolls franchise, Skyrim, or any of its characters. The only characters I own are Lina and Nalcarum. And the text on the stone tablets was taken directly from the game.

...

_A/N: This chapter is not too exciting and is just Lina and Lydia travelling to High Hrothgar. I'm hoping the next chapter is an improvement and constructive criticism is still appreciated._

* * *

Thankfully, the Thalmor did not stay with us for long. They walked with us until we had made enough progress on the 7,000 Steps for it to be difficult for us to turn around or sneak off. At that point, they turned around and returned to Ivarstead, although Nalcarum did pause to give me a warning.

"Know this, Lina and Companion: I will not be able to convince my superiors to let you go again, regardless of what these Greybeards say about you. When you return to Ivarstead, we will be waiting for you," she said in the Common Tongue, presumably so Lydia could understand her as well.

"_Then prepare for battle_," I retorted, placing a hand on my sword.

Nalcarum sighed. "_You never change, Lina_," she said before leaving to regroup with the other Thalmor.

Lydia and I waited until Nalcarum was out of sight to continue walking.

"That Thalmor seemed like she knew you," Lydia said after only a moment of silence.

"That's because she is my cousin," I admitted and then told Lydia who Nalcarum was and how we grew up together, but stopped being close when we realized that we had different ideals and how I felt as though she had stabbed me in the back on the day I saw her wearing Thalmor robes for the first time.

Lydia seemed surprised to learn that I had a blood-relative who was also a Thalmor, especially since I already confessed my crimes against the Aldmeri Dominion to her, but she didn't question me when I fell silent. She must have assumed that I did not want to say more than necessary, which was true. The less that was said about that Thalmor, the better.

So we continued walking without speaking while I cast a Candlelight spell every few minutes to give us some light. Naturally I ended up taking the lead since Lydia was obviously not a mage and we did not have any torches (which Lydia stated we should consider purchasing at the first opportunity after the magelight started to fade).

But the magelight could only do so much. The steps were becoming steeper and more uneven as we got higher up the mountain. Keeping our footing became difficult—Lydia and I both came close to falling a number of times and neither of us were particularly clumsy. No wonder Lydia wanted to wait until morning to make the journey; the lack of sunlight made it hard to figure out where to put our feet to avoid tripping.

"Perhaps we should make camp for the night," Lydia suggested after nearly slipping.

By then we had come to a part of the mountain that was flat enough for us to lay out bedrolls, so it probably was a decent spot to set up our campsite. I was about to voice an agreement when I noticed what looked like a small shrine carved out of the mountain. It must have once been an elaborate carving, but years of being exposed to snow and rain had ruined it. I believe I saw a similar one at the bottom of the mountain, but I didn't get a chance to look closely at it with those Thalmor herding us up the steps.

Now I actually had a chance to look at it and I could see that at the center of the shrine, there was a stone tablet with letters etched into it.

"What's this?" I asked as I neared the tablet.

"Some old carving most likely," Lydia said, sounding indifferent.

I'm sure she was hoping I would just move on and step away from the shrine, but instead I went on my knees and cast another Candlelight spell to read the tablet.

...

_Men were born and spread over the face of Mundus_

_The Dragons presided over the crawling masses_

_Men were weak then and had not Voice_

_..._

It sounded like something that might have been part of an ancient bard's song, but somehow I doubted that these Greybeards would have shrines with song verses carved into them lining the 7,000 Steps. And what was strange about it was the mention of dragons and the Voice—things that I was now tied to.

Unfortunately, my thoughts were interrupted when I heard Lydia shouting my name.

"Lina! Get over here and help me!"

I immediately jumped and turned around, only to see Lydia holding her bow and firing at a frost troll. There were already a couple arrows sticking out of the troll, but not enough to give me the impression that Lydia had been firing at it for too long.

Even then, how could I have been foolish enough to lower my guard and stop listening for approaching enemies? One would think it would be hard to catch me this unfocused after all my years of combat training and evading the Thalmor, but I suppose that was not always true.

The frost troll staggered towards Lydia, having taken minimal damage from the arrows. I wasn't too experienced in troll killing, but what little experience I did have taught me that trolls heal rapidly and their brute strength made facing one at melee range dangerous.

* * *

I could remember the first time I went against a troll and it was with Vilkas and Farkas. They had taken a job to eliminate a troll not far from Whiterun and agreed to let me join them. I had been rather young at the time (only eighteen) and wanted to prove myself to the older warriors. So when we saw the troll approaching, I did the most reckless thing I could have: I charged at it with my sword drawn, shouting a savage war cry. But the instant I was close enough, the troll swung at me and I was sent flying. I don't remember how, but I blacked out after that.

When I awoke again, I was back in Whiterun with a healer from the Temple of Kynareth looking over me. Vilkas and Farkas were there as well to make sure I was going to live and to berate me for my foolishness.

"Next time, use fire," Vilkas had told me, "Trolls are weak to it and even we try to avoid engaging in melee combat against them. And besides, you're a pyromancer. Put those fire spells you like so much to good use."

* * *

So now that I was facing a frost troll with Lydia, it was time to put Vilkas' advice to the test. I conjured a fireball and threw it at the troll. As usual, the fireball exploded upon impact, which knocked the troll back while burning its fur. It roared from the pain, but remained standing and staggered even closer to us.

Lydia drew another arrow before glancing at me and shouting, "Fire at it again!"

As if I needed instructions. By then I had already conjured a second fireball, which I immediately threw at the troll. The creature was once again knocked back upon impact and burned in the process, but it still wasn't enough. I growled in annoyance and quickly conjured two more fireballs, which I once again threw at the troll. Both had the same effect as my previous attacks—knocking the troll back and burning its fur—but this time it actually seemed to falter.

I started to charge another fireball to finish it off, but Lydia managed to strike first. She had not yet fired her arrow and was apparently waiting for the right moment to strike, which must have been now. Lydia released her arrow, which struck the frost troll between the eyes. The creature cried out before it finally fell.

I stared at the dead frost troll for a moment before my gaze shifted to Lydia.

"Still want to make camp?" I asked.

"Not here," Lydia replied, "There could be more trolls lurking around."

I nodded in agreement and the two of us continued walking up the steps, only pausing so Lydia could retrieve her arrows (or those that were still intact) and so I could cast another Candlelight spell. After that, I once again took the lead because my spell was still our only light source.

* * *

The rest of the journey was rather uneventful. A small pack of wolves attacked us at one point, but they were rather easy to fend off we did not run into another frost troll, thank the Divines. Other than that, the only issue was the cold, which increased as we moved higher up the mountain. Lydia was unaffected like most Nords, but I insisted on stopping long enough to put on some warmer clothes. Lydia agreed to my request and stood as a guard while I hastily removed my armor and threw on a warm layer of clothing before putting it back on. The entire time, Lydia stood with her back to me and was likely wearing a bored expression.

When I was content, we continued walking up the steps, but I could not resist stopping when we came across another shrine-like carving with a tablet at the center. I had already seen quite a few of them by now and each one referenced dragons, men, or the Voice. One mentioned Kyne and someone named Paarthurnax, along with the Tongues (which the bandit I Shouted at mentioned while he was mocking me). But this one mentioned Alduin—the very dragon that appeared in Helgen and haunted my dreams.

...

_Man prevailed, Shouting Alduin out of this world_

_Proving for all that their Voice was strong_

_Although their sacrifices were many-fold_

_..._

There was no way this could be a coincidence. Somehow these tablets were connected to Alduin (and probably me). I was sure of it. But Lydia pulled me away from the tablet before I could think about it, insisting that we did not have time to stop and read. I suppose she really wanted to reach the monastery. Or she was just tired of me constantly trying to read the stone tablets. Either way, we continued walking.

* * *

We passed a few more of the shrine-like carvings, but Lydia forced me to walk past them and ignored me when I insisted on reading them. Although I could understand her reasoning—we had been walking for some time without rest, but the incident with the troll (and in my case, the cold) made both of us reluctant to set up camp. Naturally, we had to go without sleep, which made us irritable, and stamina potions could only do so much. And to add to our frustrations, the sun was starting to rise, meaning we had been climbing the 7,000 Steps for almost a full night. But I suppose it was better than crawling around in a dungeon for the entire night.

But then we passed another shrine-like carving that Lydia could not stop me from reading before I found something of interest on the tablet.

"This one mentions Tiber Septim," I said just as Lydia was about to drag me away from the tablet.

That made her curious. "What does it say about him?" she asked.

"See for yourself," I said, while casting another Candlelight spell.

Lydia leaned forward to read it while I went on my knees to get a better look at the tablet.

...

_For years all silent, the Greybeards spoke one name_

_Tiber Septim, stripling then, was summoned to High Hrothgar_

_They blessed him and named him Dovahkiin_

_..._

"Tiber Septim came here," I said, "And he was Dovahkiin…or Dragonborn as the guards called him."

"As you are now," Lydia said.

"I suppose," I said. It was hard to believe that I was walking on the same path that the legendary Tiber Septim once took. Or that I was likely Dragonborn as he had been before becoming Talos. I couldn't help but wonder if that meant I might become a legend as he had, even if it was unlikely.

After a moment, Lydia stood and gently pulled me away from the tablet.

"We should keep moving," she said, "Admiring Tiber Septim won't get us to High Hrothgar."

"Of course," I said before we went back to walking up the steps.

At first, we walked in silence as we had for most of the journey, but it didn't take long before Lydia surprisingly tried to initiate a conversation.

"So why do you worship Talos?" she asked.

I paused. That was one question I did not expect.

"Why do you ask?"

Lydia shrugged. "I suppose it's because I'm curious," she admitted, "Just now, you made it apparent that you admire Tiber Septim to some extent and not everyone is so open about being a heretic, even among the Nords. And for your kind, it's practically treason."

I debated whether I should answer Lydia's question or not, although it wasn't exactly a secret—or an interesting story for that matter. The truth was that I let my curiosity get the better of me far too often when I first came to Skyrim and I was able to get information about Talos from Onmund and the few people who didn't automatically mistake me for a Thalmor.

So I decided to just tell Lydia, even if it was just because this was probably the first time she tried to converse with me for reasons other than to discuss battle strategy, a dragon flying in the distance, or a Thalmor-infested village.

"There's not much to tell," I said, "First, I'm sure you have guessed by now that I was born in the Summerset Isles."

Lydia nodded. "Your accent makes it apparent that you are not a native of Skyrim and I doubt you are from Cyrodiil," she said.

"Since, as you said, Talos worship is practically treason in my homeland, books about Talos were scarce and if you asked any of the Thalmor about the ban, they would only say that it was immoral to worship a man such as Tiber Septim and remind you that heretics were to be put to death," I said, "But when I came to Skyrim, I became a member of the College of Winterhold and I found plenty of books about Talos there. And I became good friends with a Nord mage there who was more than willing to tell me everything I wanted to know."

"And I suppose that what you heard was enough to make you admire Talos to the point of worshipping him as a god," Lydia said.

"For the most part," I said.

"And you must have also thought it would be an easy way to spite the Thalmor," Lydia stated.

"Maybe," I said, grinning.

Lydia only sighed and the usual silence resumed. Not that it mattered; we could already see High Hrothgar and our journey would soon come to an end.

* * *

When we finally reached the doors to the monastery, both of us were ready to collapse from exhaustion. But I still approached it and pushed open one of the doors. Lydia and I then walked inside and I was grateful to realize that it was warmer inside High Hrothgar than it was on the mountain. And after we took only a few steps past the doors, we were greeted by four elder men in gray robes that covered their faces.

One of them stepped forward and looked at me before giving a slight bow.

"Welcome Dovahkiin."


End file.
